Better the Devil you know
by Dreaming Dragonfly
Summary: Riddick returns to find Jack isn't the same little girl he left behind, but can the present ever change the past? COMPLETED.
1. Standing Alone

Jack gazed at herself hard in the mirror, unsatisfied with the person reflected back. Dressing quickly that morning, she'd thrown on a dark green top and her favourite black jeans, which flared slightly over her thick soled boots. Finally she'd slipped on a chunky tan leather belt which artfully hid the shiv she wore down her back. In this ensemble she almost looked like any other girl. So why was it, she thought, that none of what she saw; the wavy brown hair, green eyes and clear skin, seemed to do justice to everything she'd experienced so far in life?

Ok, so maybe there was a little shadow in the eyes, a murkiness to the depths that were otherwise crystal clear, but it was nothing to the shadows that haunted her sleep. They were places of absolute blackness, where creatures hunted to devour and destroy, just waiting for that one fateful mistake............The one that never came, ending always in a flash of burning silver. She would wake then, grateful always for the bright, white, light of New Mecca flooding through her window. It was always a comfort to know that that place was behind her, far away in the lonely darkness of space. Unfortunately loneliness was something she too had come to know. At first it had been part of her defence mechanism, to not let people in, to keep her distance. People you called friends could just as easily become enemies and family? Blood ran like water in hers. Scowling she turned away from the mirror, crossing the room to grab her bag and head out.

You couldn't count on anyone except yourself, she thought, no matter what anybody ever said.


	2. Elephant in the Room

Riddick sat quietly at his controls lost in thought. The deep hum of the machine had always helped him think before, but today it did little to distract him. Sighing he pulled off his goggles feeling the scratch of stubble on his hand.

"Shit" he muttered as he rubbed his head. He'd sort it out later as right now he had far more important things to worry about.

Like Helion Prime, Imam and _her._

A chance encounter with an old friend on Nefra had brought everything back in a violent flood of unwelcome memories. He couldn't even say her name, let alone think it. Her who he'd abandoned. I left her for her own good, he thought furiously, clenching his hands until his knuckles turned white. Keep telling yourself that, his conscience pricked.

Richard B. Riddick with a conscience, who'd have guessed? He thought, shaking his head wryly. All those men I killed... but there was silence, no prick of conscience or surge of guilt. For attempting to kill him they deserved to die, but if they'd gotten anywhere near her....his jaw cracked with tension. She who was so innocent and trusting. He remembered her face, her eyes wide and clear, unclouded by fear or suspicion. He'd told her he was going to check his ship and she'd believed him. He'd just left her and never looked back, never said good-bye.

His last words to her had been "don't forget to watch your back kid."

She'd shot him a wide smile, flung her arms around his waist and said, "no matter what anyone says, I hope you never leave."

Those words still haunted him now.

Imam had known he was leaving, had seen it in his eyes, but how do you explain that to a kid? Even one as smart as her.

She must be 18 or 19 now, he mused, shunting his chair forward to check his ships position. His eyes glowed oddly in the low light, a surreal silvery blue, as he wondered what type of person she was now. She'd had a mouth on her, he remembered with a dry chuckle. Always said exactly what was on her mind and it only got worse when she knew you better. Memories of their trip back from planet 'Hell' (as she'd nicknamed it) came back to him, of her adamantly refusing to give in during a fight training session. He'd had to hurt her to prove a point, and he didn't think she'd drawn breath as she'd cussed him from here to the end of the galaxy. That was her though, he reflected, that was Jack. Then he sat in absolute shocked silence as he realised he'd thought her name for the first time since he'd left New Mecca.

"Jack," he said softly, his throat suddenly dry.

"Oh shit, Jack..."


	3. Just Another Day

"Jack! Jack! You're late. What time d'ya call this?"

Jack dashed up the white marble steps, bag flung over her shoulder, eyes bright with exercise.

"I call this," she glanced at her watch "11:08." She grinned cheekily. "You?"

"It's not funny. Major Daniellton is giving the lecture; he hates it if people are late."

"Sonja, chill. Let's go in."

Sonja stood nervously by the door and Jack inwardly groaned. She wasn't the type to have friends – too risky- but Sonja was an acquaintance of sorts. Imam worked with her Father on the New Meccan Council and she knew her well enough to sit next to her in lectures.

With a roll of her eyes, Jack passed her adding, "I bet he won't even notice," then pushed the door inward. The door swung forward revealing a packed auditorium filled with their classmates – all of whom were staring right at them.

"Tardiness costs lives," a voice stated sharply "it can mean the difference between..."

"A whole ship and one in pieces on landing," whispered Jack to Sonja, who smiled, albeit weakly.

"Audrey Stevens," the Major began.

"Jack." She interrupted, heading towards the only seats available at the front. Sonja followed close behind, a deep flush of embarrassment staining her cheeks.

"My name is Jack. Audrey was my Mother's name."

My Mother who left me, she thought darkly, took one look at me and bolted. My Father? Who knows, or even cares.

"Be that as it may..."

His words broke through her reverie and she found herself staring straight at him.

"You are still late. For that I want a 4000 word essay on the Red Moon of Giza."

"Which one?"

"Wh-What?" The Major, who had just begun his slide show, turned back to her.

"Recent studies show evidence of a second on the far side of the constellation, nearly mirroring the 'original'" she said, adding quotation marks before continuing "which was thought to be the reason for what they first believed to be gas reflecting red light, now they've discovered a whole new moon. It's identical, well, so they think." She shrugged and started to unpack her bag.

The Major gazed speechlessly at her before recovering with, "well, I'd do both then."

Hardly a comeback, thought Jack, settling down to take notes on the basics of ship security in space and docking at ports, but it will have to do.


	4. In Deep Thought

Riddick chose his ports carefully. He didn't want anyone to get too suspicious, so anywhere too security conscious was off limits.

He normally stuck to the more shady docking stations, ones where incidents could easily be 'forgotten' if credit chips paved the way. That didn't make him safe, not by a long shot, even though the bounty on his head had been lifted.

After all, there wasn't much point looking for a dead man was there?

He'd been presumed dead in the Hunter Gratzner crash and he was hardly going to argue. Keeping a low profile wasn't easy, but it was better than being in the Slam.

Today he just wanted to fuel up and go. He was restless and unsure why.

No shadow dogged his step, no merc with an agenda, yet still he was uncomfortable and unable to settle.

If he was honest he knew it was because he wanted to return to New Mecca. Hell, he had even tanked up enough fuel to get him there.

Staring in disbelief at the panel before him, he realised that he'd unconsciously calculated the exact amount needed.

"Holy shit" he muttered.

Hell, he even scared himself sometimes!


	5. Earning her Wings

Jack stared blankly at the screen in front of her.

She was so tired of this, of exams and the growing anxiety over the results.

A percentage flashed up on the screen.

"No way" she mumbled, lips numb with shock.

She rattled off a sequence on the computer, the screen clearing before 98% showed again.

Glancing around, she took in the expressions of the other candidates seated around her at their screens, partly obscured by blue panels. Some looked desperate as they calculated, their lips moving silently. A strong sense of tension filled the room as they worked.

It was the last exam of the semester and a lot rested on the results. Many would only qualify for their chosen careers if they passed by a certain percentage.

Take that you cocky bastards, she thought.

So many of them had dismissed her as a 'common street rat,' yet she'd proved them all wrong, every single doubting one.

Looks like I won't have a problem she realised, a wicked glint in her eye, and if it's one thing I've learnt it's to look out for number one.

She stood and made her way across to the check point. Heads turned but, ears muffled as they were by ear pieces, only those with her in their eye line.

"Candidate Stevens" the man said, nodding as he took her chip and slipped it into the testing slot. Like her, he double checked it, then (with a rather insulting look of surprise on his face) printed off her certificate that announced;

The Certification of

Audrey (Jack) Stevens

In

Star Galaxy Navigation

With Honours.

"Congratulations" the examiner said solemnly, shaking her hand and ushering her out the door. Before she knew it she was outside on her steps, breathing in the warm air of New Mecca, her certificate clutched in her hand.

All week they'd been tested and she hadn't scored lower than 75%. She was now officially a Junior Star Ship Pilot, albeit one with a limited knowledge of _actual _experience. She'd worked on lots of holograms and models but had only managed three weeks of her two month apprenticeship.

Her Captain had stated 'personal reasons' at the time, an excuse for the embarrassment caused when he'd hit on and she'd knocked him back. Overweight, hygiene-challenged excuses for men didn't really do it for her.

Only one man had come close. Only one had ever truly interested her but he was long gone now.

Still, she couldn't help but smile. The whole galaxy was open to her and she had no intention of hanging around here waiting for him to return.

As far as she was concerned, there was nowhere Riddick could hide where she wouldn't find him.


	6. Speak of the Devil

Riddick eased his ship into one of two ports at New Mecca. He'd chosen this one because of the access available for a quick get-away.

Now it was time to catch a glimpse of Jack. He just needed to know that she was safe and well and happy.

Numbers flashed up on one of his screens.

Used to give warnings, reminders, security issues etc, this time it was highlighting the date – 22nd. It was seven years to the day since he'd gone and left Jack.

For a split second he wondered if what he was doing was right, for both of them, before remembering Jack's words,

"No matter what anyone says, I hope you never leave."

He decided he had to see how things would pan out, for better or worse.

A small smile crossed his lips as he realised Jack was officially nineteen now and an adult in the eyes of the law. A sudden thought struck , surprising a dry chuckle from him, as he wondered what she'd be up to now, legal or not.


	7. To be Unwanted

Jack wandered through the main market street of New Mecca.

It was a fascinating mix of different cultures, some new and some plain weird. Many travellers passed through on their religious pilgrimages to the west. It wasn't unusual to see people veiled from head to toe.

With a sigh she dropped herself into a comfy chair outside her favourite cafe. Knowing the other candidates would be out soon, she ordered a cool drink and settled down to watch the world roll by.

It wasn't just a pleasant past time; a lot could be learnt from watching people. Everything from how they moved to their accent, even their state of mind (happy, depressed, anxious...). It was a skill she'd learnt from Riddick before he'd abandoned her.

At his name a swirl of emotion hit her, anger and sadness in equal measure.

Suddenly a flicker of motion caught her eye. Heavily cloaked in black, it did little to disguise the man's muscular stature and prowling walk.

She stiffened, sitting bolt upright, the drink all but forgotten in her hand.

"Ridd..." the word started from her lips only to be snatched back as the man's hood fell back.

No, not him.

She cursed herself for her stupidity, thinking angrily to herself, why would he return after all this time? He'd made it crystal clear before he didn't want her.

After he'd upped and left she'd spent a lot of time wondering what life would have been like if he'd let her stay with him.

A lot different, she thought dryly. Maybe I would have gotten over my fear of the dark and filled this void of emptiness inside of me.

Wrapping her arms about herself, Jack sat back, remembering happier times when she'd felt wanted and needed.

Those had been lost when he'd left her.


	8. Look Who's Back

"Name?"

"Brian Kale."

"Ship?"

"Dark Star."

"Thank you very much for your patience Mr Kale. Please make your way to bay 537." The connection cut off with a sharp click, allowing Riddick to release the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

This was it.

His opportunity to see Jack.

So why was it that the thought of seeing her again left him feeling tense and uneasy? It wasn't as if he'd done anything wrong in leaving her.

He'd had his, no, _her_ best interests in mind.

So why did he feel so damn guilty?

"Shit" he muttered, pushing up his goggles and rubbing his eyes.

Riddick knew people called him cold and unfeeling, believing him incapable of emotion. Countless times he'd heard himself referred to as an 'animal' and maybe he was.

It didn't feel like that now. For once he was feeling something and he didn't like it.

He was a man of control, though right now it seemed everything was spiralling right out of it.

Slamming his fist on the dash he stood stiffly, trying to stretch and ease his cramped muscles as he growled,

"Better watch out Jackie girl. I'm back and I ain't takin' none of your crap."


	9. In the Eye of the Storm

It was late and the streets were all but deserted. What had started out as such a bright, sunny day had quickly turned with the dark menacing clouds that had gathered overhead as the evening drew in.

Jack was heading home in the hope she'd arrive before it poured. It was past her curfew but she knew Imam wouldn't mind. By now he'd have received her results and would probably be waiting to congratulate her.

Looks like it will have to be tomorrow, she realised, chuckling as she checked her watch and discovered just how late it was. She was exhausted and surprised to find herself actually looking forward to bed. It would be a good thing too, on a night like this especially. Glancing up at the sky, she shuddered. Storms went hand in hand with monsters in the dark in her book.

Slipping quietly in the back door Jack headed for her room. She knew she was lucky Imam had been so generous as to give her a place in his home. A lot of people would have had told her to get going, but Imam was different. He often talked to her of her 'potential' and how she could do anything and be anyone. She often wished she could explain how all she wanted was to be with Riddick and travel everywhere with him.

Quite honestly she didn't see _that _happening.

After a quick shower she climbed into bed wearing an old t-shirt of Riddick's. Imam had tried in vain to get her to wear what she called 'girly crap' in bed, but to no avail.

Checking her shiv was still tucked under her pillow; she stretched luxuriously and snuggled under her duvet.

The storm had begun to rage outside and she could hear the thunder rumbling. Every so often lightning would strike with a flare of white light.

To take her mind off the noise she began to run through all her 'feel good' memories in her head. A lot featured Riddick and their time together, but some were random in that she wasn't really sure _when _they were from.

There was a silk scarf of deep maroon and the sound of laughter, and another from when she was little, of a man throwing her gently in the air and catching her. Others, of sunshine on her skin, Riddick's laugh (rare and precious), the taste of a ripe mango and the sight of the sun rising, were much more recognisable. As usual these weren't strong enough to keep the darkness at bay, and she drifted off into a haunted sleep.

What felt like only minutes later, she woke, a scream dying on her lips. A thunderous crash resounded overhead. The storm was directly above, sending the rain down in torrents. A blinding flash of white lightning lit her room, revealing a shadow standing dripping wet before her balcony doors.

"Holy shit!" She cried, reaching for her shiv, "who the fuck are you?"

"Now Jack, is that anyway to greet an old friend?"

Dumbstruck, Jack gaped.

"Riddick?" She whispered, slipping out the bed and padding towards him.

"Is it, are you really here?"

In answer, Riddick pushed up his goggles, revealing his shining silver eyes.

"In the flesh" he rumbled.

Jack trembled as the storm continued to rage.

Tipping his head to the side, he asked quietly "since when were you afraid of storms?"

Staring wordlessly at him, she tried to take in the fact that he really was in front of her. It didn't help that he was dripping wet with his shirt clinging to him like a second skin.

"Jack?" His voice grumbled gently.

"It's more the dark," she swallowed thickly, finding her throat suddenly dry "what's out there, waiting..." She passed him to look out the glass at the rain. Remembering similar stormy nights when she'd curled up scared and alone. At this a spark of fury ignited. Reaching out to touch the pane she said bitterly, "but you knew that anyway."

A frown marred Riddick's marble features.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Jack shrugged, eyes on the storm outside before asking bluntly,

"Why are you here now? It's been years?"

Ignoring her last question, Riddick stated baldly "you were screaming."

"And?"

"And _what_ Jack?"

"Bloody hell Riddick! It's been seven years. Seven _fuckin'_ years! I think you'll find I've been afraid and screaming plenty of times when you weren't here, but I've learnt to cope. Why the white charger now?"

"What the fuck is a white charger?" He snapped.

Ignoring the dangerous tone to his voice and tense stance, Jack ploughed on.

"You know, a knight on his white horse," she laughed harshly "but why should you? Know, I mean. You don't rescue people. You dump them and bugger off alone into the sunset."

"Jack..." Riddick began warningly.

"Don't even start. I don't want to hear it and, quite honestly, I don't care" she walked to her door, "I think you should go now."

Riddick caught her arm, pinning her to the wall.

"Where's all this shit coming from?"

Half hysterical in her anger, she found herself shouting in his face.

"Where do I start? _Hm_, maybe it was you dumping me here or fucking off without a word. Or _maybe _it was the way you lead me to believe I was coming with you!" Her voice rang with sarcasm.

Suddenly Riddick growled furiously, "my life is no life for a kid. I thought you understood."

His fist hit the wall beside her head as he vented his frustration.

"Bullshit!" Jack shouted, struggling wildly against him.

"I haven't been a kid for years! Where were you then?!"

A strange tension fell on Riddick, and Jack found herself locked in his mercurial gaze.

"I thought I was saving you."

He let her go and turned away, pulling his goggles off.

"Why else would I..." His voice broke off.

"Shit!" He punched her balcony door and it shuddered in its frame.

Jack stood silent. She'd never seen him like this before and she didn't know what to do. This sudden change in tone threw her.

"Riddick?" She said quietly, stepping up beside him.

She reached out and tentatively touched his arm. He glanced across, eyes gleaming silver in the dark.

"What did you expect? That I'd be happy and settled?" She dropped her hand and sighed "you have no idea."

"Then tell me Jack" his voice low "tell me how it _really _is."

Studying his face for a minute, Jack shook her head.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Understand? What exactly is there to 'understand' Jackie girl?" He snorted.

"Open your eyes and look around you. Have you seen how you're living? Can you imagine having anything like this if you'd stayed with me?"

"None of it matters," she said, before she could stop herself "not to me."

Riddick shook his head, disbelief emblazoned across his features.

"You have a life here Jack, a good one."

"But I'm bored here. I've never been one for routine and everyday being like the last. I want to see farther than those stars out there," motioning towards the window, obscured by rain.

"Bored" he echoed his voice dangerously flat.

"Jack, you really are a piece of work. I thought you'd have grown up by now. I was wrong."

Jack frowned, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"Bored, Jack?" He repeated "well fuck me over if I didn't realise you were still that attention seekin' little brat I dumped here."

"How dare you!" She shouted, furious.

"Just what did you expect?" He growled, "wild adventures and treasure hunts?!"

Jack's eyes flashed green fire.

"I _expected _to stay with you!"

"Back to that old chestnut? Ah well, here's something that may have slipped your mind – you were a _kid_! A fuckin' annoyin', demandin' little cow who..."

Jack went to slap him but he caught her wrist.

"I wouldn't Jack. Don't push me."

Scowling, she suddenly snapped, losing all control of her temper.

"You left me alone to face the dark! You have no idea what you did to me...!"

"Did to you?" He roared, "I bloody saved you!"

"What in Allah's name is this racket?" Standing in Jack's doorway stood Imam, still in his pyjamas.

Riddick reluctantly released Jack's wrist, who rubbed it angrily.

"Jack?" Imam asked calmly.

"Riddick is back," she answered eyes on the floor, unwilling to meet his gaze.

"Ahh" he paused, taking in the ensuing chaos, then turned to Riddick to say "welcome back. Would you care for a drink?"

"Sure" Riddick nodded, then glancing at Jack said firmly "we'll talk later."

"I wouldn't bet on it" she spat.

Moving almost in a blur he caught her chin, gazing coldly down at her.

"Remember. Don't push me."

He left the room, shouldering past Imam who gazed at her with an unidentifiable look in his eyes.

How could he do this to her? She fumed, slamming the door after him. Just waltz in like this and expect everything to be ok? Didn't he realise she'd moved on, grown up and done her best to forget him? (Well, maybe not forget but...).With an infuriated scream she threw a vase at the wall.

"Bastard!" She cried.


	10. A New Dawn

"Still got that temper" commented Riddick as he followed Imam to his private study.

"Too true," replied the Holy man ruefully "that is one thing that hasn't changed."

"What else has?" Asked Riddick, as Imam fixed him a drink and passed it to him. Imam eyed him over his glass as they sat down.

"She is not as trusting as she once was, and well, she struggles to make friends."

Riddick shrugged, and then rumbled "I don't see that as a problem."

"For a nineteen year old young woman it is. She should be out shopping with friends, dating..."

"Dating?" Highlighted Riddick dubiously, "she's just a kid."

"As I heard her tell you, she hasn't been one for a long time."

Riddick scowled.

"Anyway, instead she pores over books in her room, trains in the basement and studies long into the night." Imam finished his drink, placing his glass on the table with a definitive clink.

"It's like she's waiting for something," he looked at Riddick meaningfully "or someone."

"Shit" groaned Riddick.

"My sentiments exactly. I've done my best to sway her but she's set on travelling and exploring..."

"On her own?" He interrupted.

Imam sighed, "With you. It's her deepest wish so I believe. At least, it was, when you'd first left." He glanced out at the rain still falling. "That's one of the reasons I'm so relieved about her qualifications."

"What do you mean?"Asked Riddick curiously.

"Of course, you don't know" he paused, then said carefully "she'd qualified as a Junior Star Ship pilot and flies out in two weeks. It's only a cargo ship but I know she has hopes," he corrected himself "_had _hopes of seeing you again. She'd never admit it to me of course."

Riddick shifted uncomfortably, and then frowned in deep thought.

"A cargo ship, like Fry?"

Imam looked at him curiously, and then added slowly "I imagine so. I've never given it much thought."

"What game is she playing? She knows it's dangerous..."

"Riddick," Imam interrupted "you can't wrap her up in cotton wool. Yes you saved her, but you gave up all responsibility when you abandoned her."

"I didn't abandon her." Riddick growled.

He was sick and tired of people telling him what he had done and why. Was he the only one who could see the truth? He'd saved her from a life on the run and fear of every shadow.

Imam regarded him thoughtfully.

"So you had plans then, to return?"

Riddick swore, dropping his head into his hands.

"Thought not."

"Look, I just dropped by to see how she is. I don't really give a fuck what you think." He moved restlessly.

"Be that as it may," Imam began.

Riddick growled rudely, cutting him off. "Like I said, I don't give a fuck." He stood and made as if to go. Imam blocked him at the door.

"Remember who you're fucking with Holy man," he said every muscle tense "I'm only here for Jack."

"You care about her," Imam stated baldly, stunned surprise in his eyes "you actually do. I always wondered..." he trailed off, lost in thought.

"Wondered what, exactly?" Riddick's tone was dangerous.

"It doesn't matter now" said Imam, shaking his head "but you need to realise that she's not that little girl you left behind all those years ago. She needs time to adjust."

"What are you trying to say?"

Imam closed his eyes, praying for forgiveness as he found himself saying "you broke her heart when you left. You've got a lot of making up to do."

"That took some balls;" grinned Riddick, relaxing suddenly "but I hear you. I'm just not used to..."he appeared to search for a word.

"Conversing?" Supplied Imam helpfully.

"Yeah," Riddick agreed, pulling his goggles on "but I get what you mean, even if I don't agree."

Imam looked at him startled, "with what?"

"The broken heart shit."

Imam chuckled dryly "and I thought you knew women." He shook his head.

Riddick ignored him, choosing instead to say "thanks for the drink. I'll be by in the morning. See you then."

"I think you'll find its morning now" stated Imam wryly.

Riddick glanced out the window "yeah, well" he shrugged "say nine then. Gives her sometime to sleep," he jerked his thumb at the ceiling then muttered "maybe she'll be in a better mood."

"Until we meet again" Imam said formally.

Riddick nodded and left, disappearing as silently as he arrived, though aware of a watchful presence at the balcony doors above.


	11. Clearing the Air

The next morning found Jack seated at the breakfast bar, drinking deeply from a glass of orange juice. She'd already worked out in the gym, pushing herself in her anger against Riddick.

Every punch she'd thrown, every move she'd made, had been fuelled by his sudden arrival last night. The way he'd swanned in like everything was ok, like nothing had changed, enraged her.

How could she not be still reeling from his comeback and the emotions he'd invoked? In all the time he'd been gone she'd never once let anyone get close to her, not like she'd let him.

Yet she couldn't deny her excitement and her relief that Riddick _was_ back, that he had returned. Even if it was seven years too late.

She _had _moved on, she told herself firmly with a touch of bitterness, _had_ grown up. So what if she still saw monsters in the dark? She was a big girl now and could take of herself.

On that thought her senses tingled, a feeling of awareness sliding down her spine. She knew without turning he was there, standing in the doorway.

Inclining her head slightly she managed "hello."

Heard, no, _felt _him move beside her.

Grabbing one of the kitchen chairs he swung it round so he straddled it. Resting his arms on the back, he studied her until she couldn't stand it any longer.

"Can I help you?" She finally ground out.

A smirk played on his lips as he shook his head at her tone. "Sure," he rumbled "breakfast?"

A flashback from another time and place had her catching her breath. Remembering there being nothing to eat but a specialist nutritious, yet tasteless, mush dry packed in silver sachets. The question had been a running joke, always asked to invoke a laugh.

"Ok" she answered, lips all but frozen "we have cereal, toast, porridge, omelette, fry up..."She stopped, her hands shaking. Hating herself she made herself meet his eyes, "well?"

Her palms itched as his smirk grew.

"You know" he considered slowly, his eyes mocking. "A fry up sounds good."

"Is that...with everything?"

"Bring it all baby."

Jaw cracking in an attempt to keep her temper, she stood and made her way over to the fridge, Imam's words ringing in her ears;

"Make an effort Jack. He's been alone a long time and that does things to a man." About to go, he'd added "even one like him."

"So" Riddick started, breaking the silence "what've you been up to?"

Why was it that his voice soothed her like warm honey? That it made her want to, want to...

Scowling, she angrily flipped bacon into the pan.

"Star Ship Academy, for the past three years anyway."

"That's how long it takes?" he whistled, seemingly impressed. "I never learnt."

Forgetting the stove she stared at him, spatula hovering over the pan. "What, never?"

"Nah," he said lazily. "It's all instinct. You either know it or you don't."

"Bull" Jack stated flatly, turning back to the stove to start the eggs. "It's about technique and technology, not instinct."

Was this another attempt at the old days? She wondered. A discussion, verging on a heated argument? Before it had been subtly monitored by Imam, but now there was no one to buffer.

"Is that what they teach you now?

Riddick's purring voice came over her left shoulder. She hadn't even felt him coming up behind her.

"That" she shot back, determinedly flipping the eggs over, "and more."

The silence behind her stretched and grew as she cooked. Finally, in defeat, she turned – to find him studying her, leaning nonchalantly against the counter opposite.

"Problem?" She asked, arching a brow. She couldn't help but marvel at how he hadn't changed in all the years he'd been gone, and how even now he still had the power to distract her with one look. Leaning back against the counter in grey cargos, his trademark black vest and heavy duty boots, he oozed a 'don't fuck with me' persona that had her stomach tying itself in knots.

Suddenly he pushed himself off the counter towards her, an arm reaching round as he whispered in her ear, "foods burning."

Flushing, she brushed him away and hurriedly dished up feeling horribly flustered. Angry at her own reaction, she knew he was just messing with her head. Richard B. Riddick loved a good skull fuck.

Gesturing for him to sit she placed the plate before him and handed him the cutlery.

He seemed to eye the plate with some trepidation, which stung a little. She could cook – _now_.

Taking a forkful he tentatively tasted before digging in.

Jack snorted, unable to help herself.

"What?" He asked gruffly, forking another mouthful.

"Nothing. Just your disbelief in my culinary skills."

Riddick grinned, eyes on his plate, "no wonder after that crap you served me. I haven't eaten shite like that since the Slam."

"I didn't know the meat was off."

"Jack" he protested "it was fucking green."

Chuckling, she shook her head, "nuh uh."

He shot her a look of disbelief.

"Not all of it."

Riddick burst out laughing at this and suddenly all the tension in the room drained away, like a shadow brightened by the sun.

"You did not just say that, kid" he menaced teasingly, standing and making as if to grab her.

Laughing, she darted out of his way, instinctively heading for the stairs leading to the basement.

"Hope your goggles are still good," she shouted back at him "it's a bit bright down here."


	12. Riddick regrets

A 'bit bright' was an understatement, Riddick decided. The whole room was lit up like an old Earth Christmas tree. There wasn't a shadow in sight.

An unwelcome emotion unfurled within him, one he'd buried long ago – guilt.

This place, this room, was somewhere where Jack felt safe, _because he hadn't been there to do it for her._

The walls were a soft off-white, with sheets of glass arranged in ornate patterns so that the light fractured and sparkled.

Gym equipment shared the space with a writing desk, plasma screen and sofa. There was a clear expanse of floor, thickly matted, and the smell of chalk lingered in the air.

"You train here?" He asked, unable to mask his surprise.

"Yeah" Jack replied, avoiding his gaze, suddenly uncomfortable. "It's my space y'know." She headed over to the sofa, arranging herself comfortably amongst the many cushions.

He could tell she was trying to be blasé about it all, but the tension in her voice and defiant light in her eye, gave her away.

"I wasn't sure if you were gonna keep it up."

She shrugged.

"I needed to. The way they treated me here..." Her voice trailed off as she lost herself to her memories.

"Like what?" He prompted.

She turned towards him, tears sparkling in her eyes.

"Like I was scum!" She spat. "Just another worthless street rat, with no past and no future."

She seemed to linger over her last words and Riddick snorted.

"What?" She asked, startled, her green eyes narrowing dangerously.

Folding his arms, he leant against the door jamb, before adding "I didn't take you for the type to drown yourself in self-pity."

Jack scowled, "yeah well, shit happens."

"That I _do _know."

That made her smile, the look in her eyes causing an emotion to bloom between them in a way that blurred the world around him, made him lose contact with reality – until it was interrupted by the communication buzzer ringing.

Just what the hell was _that_ all about?

The plasma screen on the wall flashed white, then black, the words 'Caller for Audrey Stevens' appearing on the screen.

"Audrey?" Muttered Riddick, straightening up and moving into the room.

"Ssshh. I need to take this call."

Motioning for him to move, she stated firmly "call received. Hello?"

The screen flickered into colour, revealing a man in military dress.

"Ms. Stevens?"

"Speaking" she nodded, a socially correct smile in place.

Riddick stiffened as the picture cleared. Standing where he was, he was out of sight, but it still left him on edge.

"My name is Sergeant Brandon of Solar Base Three. We wish to notify you of your upcoming assignment as Junior Star Ship pilot to the Ferdinand 208. She is a large transporter who will be engaged with precious cargo. As a matter of emergency the launch date has been moved forward."

"To when?" Asked Jack, utterly serious.

Brandon studied her a moment before answering, "six hours from now."

"Excuse me?"

"In six hours you are required to sign in at the pilot base on port number 593. From there you will be assigned your quarters and shown your working environment."

Riddick swore softly.

Ignoring him, Jack inquired "can I ask why the launch has been changed from two weeks to today?"

"The Damask 511 has been ambushed and disabled." Brandon stated bluntly. "Her crew is depleted and some are injured. Her cargo is of some interest to us and must be protected at all costs. In short, you will make up part of the rescue crew."

Jack stared at him wordlessly, her emotion evident on her face. Then she found her voice, "you can't just..."

"I have already confirmed with the New Meccan Council. Your guardian in particular was adamant you were ready for this role. Are you?"

Riddick found himself curling his hands into fists at the implied insult. This man didn't even know her and yet already he was making assumptions.

Smiling sweetly, her spine tense at the veiled taunt, she replied "of course. I'll be there."

"So glad to have you on board."

Riddick bit back a snarl. The oily bastard...

"Thank you sir."

With a sharp nod he ended the call, leaving Jack to sink back into her cushions.

Raking her hand through her long hair, she uttered quietly 'holy hell."

"You're not serious about this are you?" Riddick asked in his deep tones.

Jack glanced up at him, a stunned expression lingering in her eyes.

"It's what I'm trained to do."

Standing, she avoided his gaze as she went to head up to her room.

"Do you know what has 'ambushed and disabled' that ship?" He mouthed the words like they tasted bad.

"No, he didn't say."

Riddick regarded her seriously, before stating baldly "pirates."

"What?" Jack scoffed "you're not serious." Confusion was clear in her green eyes.

"Completely. 'Pirate' is just a name for'em, from the old Earth days, but that doesn't make them any less dangerous."

She still looked unconvinced.

"Look, they track down a ship with valuable cargo, get on board somehow, and then kill whoever gets in their way for whatever they want."

"Sounds like someone else I know."

Riddick's lip curled in disgust, "I don't kill women and children, or old men on religious pilgrimages."

"So, you're saying they're potentially lethal."

Riddick nodded and Jack tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"Ah well" she said finally, her tone light.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He ground out, his jaw suddenly tight.

"It's my duty" she said slowly, like he was incapable of understanding, as she started up the stairs.

"What was that? You don't care if you live or die?"

Finally losing her temper, Jack turned and said sharply, "If I kill them first, not really." She left him then, her footfalls heavy on the stairs.

"Maybe I do" he added quietly, gazing at the now-empty staircase after her, thoughtfully.

It was a strange realisation for a man like him.


	13. Finding her Wings

Trying to ignore her nerves, Jack buttoned up her shirt, straightening the collar and smoothing the creases. It was light tan in colour, with white ornamental wings embroidered on the left shoulder to signify rank. Currently she only had one, but hopefully one day she would achieve five – the highest possible.

The trousers were the colour of charcoal and fitted well enough. These tucked into her standard-issue knee high boots. Surprisingly comfortable, they were chunky soled and fitted with a room allowance for weapons.

She decided to tie her hair back, putting it into a tight French plait. Although severe in style, it did little to disguise her feminine features. There was no way she could fake being a male now, it was like suggesting Riddick could pass as a woman. Ridiculous.

Lastly she tucked her shiv down her back, a gift from Riddick during their trip back from the Kubla Khan. He'd etched a design on it and weighted it for her. In short, it was perfect. Although not strictly regulation, she'd prefer to fight with blades than guns every time. Unfortunately, bastards too cowardly to fight often had a 'trigger finger,' pointing at everything that moved. It seemed their motto was; shoot first, think later (if at all).

A knock resounded on her bedroom door,

"Come in."

Through the mirror she watched Riddick enter her dimly lit room. He'd taken his goggles off, leaving his eyes to gleam pure silver.

"Nearly ready kid?" He asked, his eyes travelling over her, taking in her uniform.

"Nearly" she replied. "How do I look?" She turned to face him directly.

It was so hard, she thought nervously, so hard to know what he was thinking when he wore his mask of stone. Not even his eyes betrayed him.

"That bad huh?" She joked weakly, her voice falsely cheery bright. She stepped over to her bed, grabbing her well-packed holdall.

"Well, I guess I can't help that," she gabbled to fill the silence "it is standard regulation..."

"Jack."

"Honestly, if I had a choice these trousers would go..."

"Jack" Riddick tried again, "you're babblin'."

"Shit" she finally said, covering her face with her hand, "I don't know if I can do this."

She took a deep breath, and then smiled brightly at him. "I will see you again won't I?"

"Sure kid."

Hoisting her bag on her shoulder she did one last check of her room before heading to the door.

"Wish me luck."

"You don't need it."

Studying his face as she stopped before him, she asked "do you mean that?"

It meant a lot to her that he did. That he believed in her and her ability to succeed.

Brushing her cheekbone with his fingertips he half whispered "of course." He lowered his head, his eyes flaring molten silver, and her heart all but stopped.

Inches from her lips he added "you were trained by the best after all."

Laughing, the strange tension broken; she shoved him back, adjusted her bag and moved down the hall.

"Ego much?" She shot back with a roll of her eyes.

Following her, Riddick was unable to witness the disappointed frown that dimmed her eyes and tightened her mouth.

He still thought of her as a kid and for some reason that really, _really_ hurt.


	14. The Beast Within

Watching her walk away from him was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do, Riddick decided, scowling. His animal within was snarling, near insane with the need to drag her back and keep her safe. His gut instinct told him this mission was dangerous, but then who was he to judge what Jack did? She'd already survived so much more than any other person he knew, but it didn't serve to make him feel any better.

It had taken a lot _not _to say something when she was changing into her uniform, to _not _ask her to stay, but needing her was a weakness he didn't care to admit.

He was possessive he knew, but had never been so about _someone _before. Even now he didn't like to think _why_ he was, but surely it was enough that he was acknowledging that he _did? _Thatevery glance she drew from the dock workers had his animal growling, hardening his eyes to mercury flints.

He'd driven her to the port in Imam's beat-up-excuse for transport. An ancient craft that had looked to have seen better days.

The silence had been deafening.

Every time he'd gone to speak he'd just clenched his jaw a little tighter, gripped the wheel a little tighter, 'til he felt like he was going to shatter from the tension.

Jack's gaze had been fixed blankly on the road outside, whilst her hands had fiddled with the strap of her bag; loosening, tightening, loosening, tightening. He'd had to put his hand out eventually to stop her. She'd finally glanced over then, smiling almost sadly as the port appeared in sight.

"Guess this is it" he'd rumbled deeply.

He'd pulled up beside port 593, ignoring the curious looks of the uniformed men on patrol. He'd donned a disguise for the occasion. A plain black baseball cap pulled low and a large pair of tinted aviator glasses.

"Yeah" Jack had replied unhappily, sliding out the door. Going around to the driver's side, she'd leant over the open window.

"Tell Imam I'll keep in contact" she'd searched his face as he'd studied her "and,"

she'd actually _blushed _and looked awkward, biting her lip and lowering her eyes

"don't let it be so long next time you come by." Touching Riddick's shoulder through the window, she'd grinned almost bravely, and began to walk away.

"Jack" he'd called, unable to stop himself, though it drew the unwanted attention of the guards by the entrance. Eyes wide, she'd returned quickly to his side. Grabbing her shirt front through the window he'd yanked her towards him, 'til they were nearly nose -to-nose, and said "don't forget to watch your back kid."

A strange light had flashed through her eyes, but before he could work out what it was, it was gone.

Knowing Jack couldn't see his eyes through his glasses, he'd closed them to inhale her scent. This close it had triggered another barrage of emotions, 'til he'd focused on her eyes to see himself reflected back in her green gaze. With a stab of disgust he realised what he was doing, what he was allowing himself to _feel_ and he'd released her roughly, almost rudely.

He was a man who needed no one but himself.

Staggering, looking a little confused, Jack had begun to walk away again, oblivious to the deafening roar of the animal within Riddick.

As she'd slipped through the door he'd gunned the engine and left in a cloud of fumes, one thought running through his head, _this time you dumped me kid_.

On a whim Riddick decided to head back to Imam's and find a way to keep track of Jack whilst he got on with the rest of his life. _A life without her, _his conscience whispered, but he chose to ignore it.

Drawing up outside he instantly noticed a strange scent in the air. An odd stillness hung over the house. It had his hackles rising and on entering he knew instantly something was wrong.

When he'd arrived the other day he'd done a scope of the whole house. He knew exactly where what he needed was and a smirk crossed his lips as he drew his shivs in preparation.

"Time for your favourite game, Jack" he whispered.

Listening intently he circled through the house and flipped the fuse, plunging it into darkness.


	15. Tricking the Trickster

As soon as she entered the room Jack knew something was wrong. She'd been hurriedly ushered from the lobby to a side room – dominated by two pale faced men dressed in black, heavy duty warfare gear.

She might be new to this, but she wasn't completely stupid.

Inside the door they patted her down, taking her daggers from her boots and her side gun, but somehow missing her shiv.

Just because it ain't regulation, doesn't mean I haven't got something she thought, biting her tongue as they gestured for to sit.

"What is this about?"

The men blinked back at her, their faces studiously blank.

"Ok" Jack sighed, folding her hands in her lap, "guess I'll sit and wait."

In subtle glances she took in the room around her as Riddick had taught her to do; the grey carpet, the plasma screens arranged in a semi-circle, and the large window with office-style blinds. Oddly, a tall potted plant grew in one corner.

Please, she thought, mentally shaking her head. Listening equipment in the branches? What do they think, I was born yesterday? A small smile crossed her lips.

Checking her watch, she wondered what Riddick was up to now. Would he have left yet? He'd achieved what he'd set out to do after all, she was sure. Seven years was a long time to go without seeing someone, so he must have had some other reason to drop by. Jack pondered this as Sergeant Brandon entered, flanked by another military official – Colonel Whithers. Jack recognised him from around the academy.

"Hello" Jack said politely.

They ignored her, heading over to the screens to switch them on and enter specific codes.

"May I ask what this is about?" she asked "only..."

"Please Stevens," Brandon uttered sharply "all will become clear in a moment."

The monitors began to beep, sending coloured lines across the screens. Apparently they made sense to Brandon, who smirked coldly and stepped back.

"So" he began, moving to stand before her. "Any ideas why I have had you brought here?"

"No Sir" she replied, remembering her place. "I did try and ask..." she gestured towards the men in black.

"Ah yes, well you may as well ignore them. They know as much as you."

"Is there a problem with the ship Sir?"

He laughed, "A problem with the ship? No Stevens, it's nothing to do with that."

"So I still have a place as a pilot?" She hated how desperate she sounded, but after Riddick had boosted her confidence in herself and, in turn her own self belief, she really wanted a chance to prove her own ability.

"Yes, but we may need you for something else, a sort of," he searched for the right word "special mission."

Young as she was, Jack wasn't naive. She'd spent almost a year with a man who had had to constantly use his mind to keep ahead of mercs. She liked to think it had taught her more than what the average person would know – like when someone was taking her for a fool.

"A special mission, Sir?"

"Yes" Whithers finally contributed, utterly serious, unaware of the scornful tone to Jack's voice. "I have been sent to further your instructions on your arrival at the Damask 511."

He tapped something into one of the screens, frowning as it proceeded to load slowly.

Jack watched closely, constantly aware of the armed men in the room.

"It would appear," started Brandon, continuing to enter information into another screen.

"Ah yes, here we are" interrupted Whithers. Turning he motioned for her to come closer. "This is what we need you to locate,"

A strange image had come on the screen, a sketch of a semi-circle of stone, etched with odd symbols.

"What is it?" she asked, interested despite herself.

"Ah, I'm afraid that's classified," stated Whithers. "What we need _you _to do though is find it and...uh"

"transport it to the Ferdinand 208," finished Brandon, smoothly.

"The sketch?" asked Jack, just to wind them up. Riddick had taught her this was a good way of finding out how valued and important something was. In short, it was his trademark skull fuck.

"Good God, no!" blustered Whithers his face draining of all colour.

Take it it's important then, noted Jack grimly.

"The archway itself." Almost comically, Whithers pulled out a hanky and dabbed his face.

A stone arch that appears to be invaluable, she thought, just what is going on here?

Somebody knocked at the door; Brandon went and answered, holding a whispered court outside. Returning he passed a loaded glance at Whithers, who announced that the Ferdinand was nearly ready and would she leave for her position?

Both men shook her hand, though Whithers' grip was weak and clammy. Brandon, however, had a cold light in his eye. His grasp was tight, his smile smug, and yet there was an almost unidentifiable feeling about him that had her back up. It was only later, when she was strapping herself into her pilot seat that she realised what it was.

Confidence, it oozed out of every pore. Brandon was evidently convinced that this 'mission' would end well and as far as she was concerned, Jack thought as she prepped the ship, it was only a matter of time before she found out exactly why.


	16. Shadows in the Dark

Riddick moved stealthily up the mahogany stairway. The whole house was pitch black, except for one room where light spilled out from under the door. The light flickered, casting shadows, as figures shifted past. They were talking in low whispers, but still loud enough for his ears to decipher, even through the solid wooden door of Imam's study.

"_He's here!"_

"Well, what did you expect?"

"But he's suspicious..."

"_Of course _he's suspicious; he doesn't know us from Adam..."

Riddick lost the thread of the conversation as the room fell silent. A breeze tickled across his arm. Glancing furtively around he adjusted his grip on his shivs. There was a subtle movement to his left, a rippling of curtain that had him spinning in defence. Almost without thinking, moving in a blur, he caught a figure in white unawares.

"Whose throat is this?" He growled, eyes flashing silver sparks at their attempt to sneak up on him. His shiv pressed against their throat threateningly.

The door before him creaked open, revealing Imam and three other men all dressed in dark robes. A coloured band wrapped around the top of their left arm.

"Her name is Aereon; she is an envoy from the Elemental race. She means you no harm" Imam stated, his eyes watchful.

Studying her Riddick noticed her steady gaze didn't waver from his face. Not a sign of fear when confronted by him and his blade. Interesting.

"And them?" he asked, his voice harsh, indicating the men with his other shiv.

"This is Fenhir, Azius and Kela. They are members of the New Meccan Council, as am I" explained Imam evenly.

"What's this about?" Riddick finally rumbled, releasing Aereon as he moved into the room. Two candles flickered wildly on the table. The light was soft enough that he didn't need his goggles.

"A ship" stated Aereon, appearing ghost-like before him.

"A ship? Are you kiddin' me?" he snorted "oh this is good Imam. You gather here to ask me about a ship?" He sobered quickly, a fierce look on his face. "This had better be good."

"Riddick" Imam began "Aereon came here because something is about to happen that is going to change everything. Not just this world, _every world_." He took a breath "look, the Coalsack planets are gone, there's over eight million settlers missing and the entire Aquilan system's gone too."

Riddick gazed at him unmoved, "and?"

"Well," Imam struggled, thrown by the hard light in Riddick's eyes "don't you understand? Don't you...care?"

"You said it's all circling the drain...the whole universe. Right?"

"That's right" Imam nodded warily.

He shrugged, "had to end sometime."

"Just because your world is lost Riddick, does not mean we want the same to happen everywhere else."

He snapped around to glare at Aereon, "what did you say?"

"Oh yes Riddick, I know who you are. In fact, I know exactly _what_ you are too." She paused, "you're Furyan."

Riddick's jaw locked.

"There was a story," Imam added "a story Aereon told at a Council meeting of young male Furyan's strangled at birth...with their own cords."

"You heard this, and automatically thought of me?"

Aereon watched him a moment before asking gently "do you remember your home world, where it was?"

A Council member butted in, "have you seen any others?" Desperation laced his tone "others like yourself?"

Riddick turned away, his eyes hard. "I thought this was about a ship?" He glanced across at Aereon, who frowned in disappointment.

"It is," she admitted. Blurring past him, she rested her hands on the stone ledge of the balcony, gazing widely out at New Mecca.

"Do you know where Furya was, Riddick? I mean, the exact co-ordinates?"

Pure steel stared at her through the darkness. A nerve flickered in his cheek as his tension grew; "no" he finally bit out.

"Right at this precise minute, out there" she said waving airily at the indigo sky above, "a ship waits at that exact point. Within its cargo hold..."

"Is something of great interest. I know, I've heard it all before."

A frown crossed her face, "but how?"

"The mission you've sent _her_ on thanks to her pushy guardian. The one to rescue that ship that's been disabled..." A thought struck him at the confusion evident on her features and he cursed loudly. "You didn't send her did you?"

"I don't understand. Send who?"

"Jack" Riddick stated flatly "who else has a guardian on the Council?"

Aereon's face whitened and she swayed on her feet. "God have mercy on us all" she whispered.

"I thought you didn't pray to a God" Riddick remarked, folding his arms, shivs still in hand.

"Sometimes we all need a little help" Imam said, coming forward to support the shaken Elemental.

"I can't be dealing with this" Riddick muttered, sliding his shivs back in their sheaths, watched nervously by the other Council members. He grabbed a long cloak off a hook by the door, flinging it around his shoulders as he made as if to leave.

"Please Riddick," he heard Imam plead "will you wait one minute to save worlds?"

"Not my fight" he muttered, pulling the hood up.

"Not even when it concerns, _her?"_Aereon's voice asked calmly from her now-seated place by the table.

Suddenly a round of banging split the silence. A stern voice hollered "open up! We know you're in there!"

"What's happening?" cried Kela, turning on Imam in a frenzy.

"Back off" growled Riddick_, _grabbing him by the throat "and keep fuckin' _quiet."_ He shook him for good measure.

"Imam, you need to get out of here _NOW!"_ He threw the man away from him.

The sound of splintering wood ripped through the air as the guards broke down the front door.

"Through here!" Imam whispered fiercely to the others, pointing to second door.

"Go quickly" Riddick said, unsheathing his shivs for the second time.

"But..." Imam spluttered.

"Fuckin' move!" Riddick roared, throwing off his cloak as the study doors burst open. Striding over to the candles he placed his hands palm down on them;

"Hope you're not afraid of the dark" he smirked, "the light, it hurts my eyes."

This darkness was Riddick's element and these men didn't even have a clue. Dressed in the uniform of New Meccan guards it struck him that something was a little off, weren't they under the direction of the Council?

Moving forward sharply, Riddick caught one unawares. His throat was cut before he realised, his blood splattering across the faces of others in a scarlet arc.

"Argghh!" shouted one as he was blinded.

Frightened by the animal fury that was etched in every feature and made every move lethal in the darkness he claimed for his own, they scattered. Moving silently, Riddick swept round as the rest lurched towards him. They lacked skill as they shoved their blades at him and shot their guns wildly.

All it would take was one carefully placed blow, he realised, easily evading the jabs and bullets whilst throwing a man across the room, and they really were all _screwed._ A man with dark hair went sprawling, tripping over the upturned table that another had tried to throw. Riddick finished him coldly, his shiv drinking deep.

Suddenly, a guard tried to grab him from behind and put a gun to his temple. That's it, Riddick thought with a snarl, breaking the man's arm. I'm not fucking around anymore. On that he threw himself properly into the fight, letting his beast have free-rein as he lost himself in the slice and dance of deadly blows. Delivering death in a way that some would claim passed as an art form.

"Who sent you?" he roared, pinning the last to the wall with his shiv to his back – Jack's gusher. The man was shaking, the stench of fear rolling off him in waves as he stayed silent with his blue eyes wide.

"I asked who _bloody _sent you?!"

"The, the Council," the guard stuttered "they said, said..."

"Said _what_?!" Riddick hollered.

"That you were needed for questioning" he all but whispered "for traitorous acts against this..."he struggled to finish, fighting against Riddick's hold.

Riddick dug his shiv in enough to draw blood. The copperish tint filled the already-tainted air, seeping into the guard's shirt.

"This world and others like it," he amended, gasping. "Are you," he swallowed "going to kill me now?" His voice shook.

"Did they say who I was? Did they _know _my name?!" Riddick bellowed, slamming the man back into the wall.

"R, Rid, Riddick."

"Shit," he muttered, then asked roughly as he realised something. "Who gave the order? Who _sent _you?"

The guard started to shake; "I've already told you..." he tailed off, his eyes glazed with fear.

"Which piece of scum did it?" Riddick spat, "I want a bloody _name_!"

"Brandon" the guard replied quickly, blonde hair slick with sweat. "Sergeant Brandon!"

"The fuckin' bastard! I knew..." Riddick broke off, releasing the guard, who stared at him shocked. "Get going," he muttered his eyes dark and stormy from his inner turmoil.

The man stood, frozen to the spot.

"I said, fucking _go_!"

The guard crashed through the room, tripping over the debris and half falling down the stairs.

"Are they gone?" Glowing softly, Aereon stood calmly in the resulting chaos.

Riddick nodded grimly.

"Good" she stated, "now we..."

"Now _you_ can tell _me_ what all this has the fuck to do with me!"Riddick spat, fury in his eyes as he rounded on her.

"Who said this had anything to do with you?" She replied coolly.

Silence reigned supreme as coldness swept through him and his beast roared its wrath.

"Jack" he uttered softly, turning the full power of his mercurial gaze on Aereon. "What the hell has she got herself into now?"


	17. Dead Man Walking

"I'm your biggest fan,

I'll follow you until you love me, papa-paparazzi" Jack sung it under her breath as they flew away from New Mecca. She couldn't help but think of Riddick whenever she heard it.

"Angle – good" stated the computer, "initiating autopilot."

"Ta, very much" muttered Jack. Scowling she tugged at the collar of her shirt.

"Irritating little suckers aren't they?"

The voice came over her left shoulder. Spinning her chair round she spluttered "Saunders! What are you doing here?"

Grinning, she released herself from her chair and hugged him. He'd been one of her flight instructors from the Academy.

"How are you?" she asked with a smile.

"Good, now Jack I'm here to give you a message" he gripped her shoulders tightly.

"A message? From who?"

He glanced around, activating the closing of the door. "The Council."

"Huh? I've already received..." she tailed off as he shook his head, his grey eyes intense.

"Brandon's gone rogue. He's acting on his own."

"But," she said, eyes darting frantically about as she tried to come to terms with what he was saying, "shouldn't we..."

Footsteps echoed down the passageway outside and they both froze.

"Whatever happens" he whispered wildly "do not trust them."

She frowned, "but they're..."

"Promise me!" he hissed, "_whatever happens!"_

"I, I promise" she stuttered, uneasy at his intense expression.

The door slid open to reveal three armed guards. Saunders jumped guiltily but Jack just plastered a fake smile across her face.

"Can I help you Officers?"

Clasping his hands behind his back, the palest stepped forward, "your presence is requested on the flight deck."

"Tell them I'll be right there..."

"_We _are to escort you," he enunciated carefully. The other two moved to form a human barrier across the door. Saunders shifted uncomfortably as he said "I'd better return to my position." He gave Jack a mini salute and nodded, "Stevens." Jack watched him as he slipped through the barrier before her.

Eyeing the men she sighed, "Why do I get the feeling I won't get a word out of you?" Unsurprisingly they remained stony faced as before. Jack motioned them out the door, "all right then, let's go."

As she stepped out they arranged themselves so that two flanked her and one was directly behind.

"O_-kay"_ she finally managed, frowning at their odd behaviour "wonder what it will be this time."

The men, guns held across their bodies, escorted her to the deck at the top of the ship. It was a huge transporter, capable of taking over three hundred people, with a large observation window that looked out into space.

There was an air of power about the place, what with everyone rushing around looking important and purposeful. Yet none of them were involved in actually flying the ship at all, she knew. They were all part of the crew that managed the communication system that interacted with different ships.

"Sir," one of her escorts announced, stepping up to another in higher ranking dress. He was leaning some-what casually against a clear glass barrier that split the observation deck into two levels.

"Stevens' here."

The man turned and Jack stared uncomprehendingly.

"Sergeant Brandon? I thought you..."

"Were just the messenger?" he interrupted coldly.

Jack nodded, a feeling of unease gripping her. She didn't like where this was going.

"Funny" he began, "I'm very good at that." He laughed, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Find out more, a voice whispered in Jack's mind, find out what he wants. Strangely, it reminded her of Riddick and she found herself speaking;

"So why the big facade?" she gestured at the ship around them. "Why all this? Why, me?

"So many questions Stevens" he chided, "or should that be Jacqueline?"

Jack shrugged coolly, "if you want to be correct, it's Audrey actually."

"But that's not right either is it?" he said it almost forcefully, then sighed theatrically "however, now is not the time for that little – drama."

Jack rolled her eyes, "when are you going to get to the point, or did you summon me here just to piss around?"

His eyebrows rose in surprise, "now, now Jack" (he appeared to have dropped the issue over her name) "temper, temper. I had heard you'd grown up in seven years, perhaps I was wrong."

"Seven years?" queried Jack, ice in her veins.

"Forgotten already have we?" This time his tone was mocking. "I _was_ under the impression an experience like that stayed with you forever."

An inhuman scream tore through the quiet hum, echoing over the speakers. Jack flinched.

"Recognise that, do you?" he smiled coldly, evidently pleased. "Bring black, I mean _back, _pleasant memories for you?"

Jack drew her shiv as the shriek continued, lifting the hairs on the back of her neck. These were the sounds that haunted her dreams...

"Who the _hell_ are you?" she demanded, holding her shiv defensively.

Brandon grinned wolfishly, an arrogant set to his shoulders, "Lee Brandon Johns. You killed my brother."

Jack's jaw dropped.

A memory she'd tried to forget came rushing back, of curling up on the skiv after escaping _that_ planet, and crying over everyone they had lost.

"Fry, Shazza, Zeke, Johns..." she'd barely managed to choke their names out as Imam had comforted her.

Riddick had glanced over at her from his position in the pilot seat and snapped, "Johns was a bastard. The fucker didn't care about you. If he'd had his way, you'd be dead."

"Coming back to you is it?" Brandon accused, face turned ugly with hate as he stepped closer, breaking into her reverie.

Jack took her chance, sweeping her shiv across his face in a stinging blow.

"You stupid bitch!" he roared, blood trickling down his cheek. "I should..." he raised his hand as if to slap her, a manic light in his eyes, his hair in disarray, "but I won't." He pulled away, taking a breath and smoothing his shirt. A woman approached him with a white cloth outstretched. "It's of no matter" he stated, waving her away.

Jack watched him with her eyes narrowed; her body tense, understanding now why Saunders had urged her to be cautious.

"So you brought me here for revenge?" she shook her head, a wicked light in her eye. "What did you think Brandon? That I'd run from you when I found out who you were?" she laughed, unable to help herself. "Well, you know what? I won't give you the satisfaction. I'm getting off this heap of shit." With that, she spun on her heel intent on leaving.

"Not so fast," Brandon cried, striding after her. "Restrain her!" he ordered, gesturing to his men.

Jack struggled wildly as his thugs grabbed her, their hands clammy and cold as they forced her to drop her shiv.

"Take her to the med bay and get her under control. Sedate her if you have to!"

The men barely flinched as she fought like a wildcat, throwing punches and kicking out viciously. They only held her tighter, hoisting her between them as one led the way off the deck.

"Brandon, Brandon!" she shouted "you won't get away with this. _He'll _find ya!"

There was no need for her to go into any detail; Brandon would have known exactly who his brother's last prisoner was and who she was referring to.

"Brandon, Brandon!" she hollered, an edge to her voice "you're a fuckin' _dead man!"_


	18. A Royal Fury

Hey, I just wanted to thank everyone who has reviewed, story-alerted and favourite-d this so far. Thanks so, so much!!

Thought you might be interested to know that this chapter was in fact the very first one I ever wrote, and everything else was added after so that it would fit around it. Anyways, that's enough from me – let's get back to Riddick!

Storm clouds gathered in Riddick's eyes as he towered over Aereon.

"Now tell me, how the hell is Jack involved in _this_?" he gestured angrily at the bodies littering the room.

Aereon drew herself up stiffly at his tone, one brow arching as she replied "I did try and tell you before."

Riddick's eyes sparked dangerously as his anger swelled.

"Don't you loose that Furyan temper on me" Aereon remarked, swirling round him in a wisp of wind. "I _am_ trying to explain." She took a steadying breath.

"Before, when Azius asked if you had seen others like yourself you never answered. Have you?" She queried, searching his hard features.

Riddick shook his head, eyes dropping to the floor. "No, I've been searching..."a muscle in his jaw twitched. Hi animal within snarled as it vented its frustration.

"What if I told you I knew another?"

Riddick finally gave in to the surge of animal fury that stole all humanity from his face, "I don't give a flying fuck. How does this involve Jack?"

Aereon regarded him with a look of almost pity on her face. "Jack's not human," she hinted gently "and you're Furyan."

"So what if she's not human and I'm Furyan!" He repeated, thunder in his voice. "What the hell does that..." his thoughts spun as the foundations rocked beneath his feet. There was a ring of truth in his words. "I'm not human and she's...Furyan."

Riddick growled as it hit him. All this time he'd been looking for somewhere to belong, for someone to belong _with_ – only to find he'd been running from it all this time.

"_How?"_ The single gasped entreaty had Imam stepping forward, candle flaring between his hands. Grumbling, Riddick pulled his goggles on.

"What do you know about Jack's past?" Imam asked, righting the table and placing the candle on it. Azius and another Council member began to heft the bodies out.

"She's a runaway. Least, that's what she told me" he rumbled, folding his arms. "The universe is full of 'em."

Aereon watched him thoughtfully, wary of his reaction as she revealed the truth.

"Her name, her _real_ name, is Audreya Jacqueline de Darriae." She said the surname almost reverently.

"Is that s'posed to mean somethin' to me?"

"How can you..." whispered the remaining Council member Fenhir, appalled. With one malevolent look, Riddick silenced him.

Aereon added gently, "it's a Royal Furyan line."

Riddick's muscles locked as disbelief rippled through him. "You better not be shittin' me."

"I am not as you say, _shittin'_ you."

Riddick paced, his movements that of a wild animal as he and his beast truly merged. "She's younger than me," he muttered "they were all wiped out over thirty years ago."

The others stood quietly, silent observers to his inner turmoil.

"How can this be?" he finally managed "I thought I was the last..." he growled deeply, dropping his head and clenching his fists. "I was led to believe I _was_ the last."

"Yes, well" Aereon added uncomfortably "not everything is as we thought."

"We?"

"The Elementals."

"Ah," he rumbled "so even you fuck up sometimes."

Aereon blinked slowly before saying softly "do you wish me to continue?"

"By all means" Riddick gestured, sarcasm marring his tone.

"Audreya, Jack" she amended "is the daughter of Jenisae Andraya de Darriae and Michael White."

The silence was absolute. Imam and Fenhir stood frozen, the two other Council members still moving the remaining bodies downstairs.

"So the chick was Furyan?" Riddick's head spun as he tried to comprehend the truth.

"How did she, they," he corrected "survive the massacre?"

Aereon drifted beside him. "Her mother, Jenisae, was the youngest daughter of the last Lord of de Darriae. He was a member of their council, and held quite a position from what we can gather."

"That's Royal blood for you" muttered Fenhir darkly.

Aereon continued as if she hadn't heard. "On hearing of the curse laid on all Furyans..."

"By that fuckin' Necromonger" Riddick spat.

Imam started, eyes wide. "You knew? You knew about your people and the fate of the rest of the worlds..."

Riddick punched the wall as his inner beast roared in fury. "It was a rumour" he muttered roughly "I needed to be sure..."

Aereon sighed "you can be sure now. Danel was only trying to protect his family."

"Danel?" queried Fenhir.

"Lord de Darriae" Imam informed him quietly.

Aereon carried on, her eyes far away. "Danel tried - and failed, to reach a truce. Foolish man, for how can one defy a prophesy?"

The question appeared rhetorical and no-one spoke.

"So he scattered his family across the stars, protected by his most trusted friends, allies and serving warriors."

"And Jack's Father, he was...human?" Confusion was clear in Riddick's tone and marred his handsome features.

"Yes, and an ally to the Furyan cause" Aereon explained.

"The others?"

"Dead" she stated flatly, "until recently we thought they all were, but now we know about Jack..." her brow furrowed in thought.

"And?" Riddick prompted roughly.

"And now she's a target."

He resumed his pacing, unable to stay still with the molten hot fury running through his veins. His beast roared at him to take action, to destroy anyone who threatened what was his. _His._ Jack was his now and always would be.

"Furyan strength flows through her, as it does you."

He shook his head in violent disbelief "she's just a kid."

"A kid?" Aereon mocked "I think not. A young woman, most certainly, but not a child."

"Just because she's Furyan doesn't mean she's a warrior" Imam protested, finally breaking his silence.

"True" Aereon replied slowly, glancing at him in the candle light "but then it doesn't make her defenceless either."

Riddick growled loudly at this, his body tense with anger.

Aereon eyed him speculatively for a minute, "you have feelings for her," she remarked softly, a calculating look in her eyes.

Ignoring her, he looked across at Imam "looks like I have to save the kid again." He scowled, "this had better be the last time – I didn't sign up to be her babysitter."

"Good show Riddick, but I can see the odds and they favour... Jack" Aereon stated quietly.

Pure fury burnt in his eyes as he turned on her. "I'd watch your mouth old woman" he snapped, drawing his shiv.

"Getting angry at me won't change the facts. Why pretend you don't have feelings for her?" Aereon became all but invisible as she whirled around him. "As a child she looked to you to protect and lead her, now she needs you for so much more..."

"Oh" whispered Fenhir. Azius and Kela paused in the doorway awkwardly.

"This is _bullshit!"_ he roared.

"I think not" Imam finally intervened "it is the truth. If only you'd accept it."

"There is nothing to except!" and with that he swept the table over, spilling hot wax across the floor and plunging the room back into darkness. _His_ territory.

In the shadows he stalked towards the doors.

"If you leave now, who will save her?"

Riddick stiffened, fists clenched. He turned his head slightly.

"She's going to that ship at Furya's point isn't she?"

"Yes" Aereon replied, a little unnerved by his tone.

"So am I."

Her voice followed him as he strode down the stairs.

"Furyans. Defiant to the end."


	19. Maroon Memories

"Will you, let me, fucking go!" Jack shrieked, fighting furiously against the men dragging her along. They ignored her, appearing almost immune to pain, even as she caught one in the shin with a brutal back kick.

Saunders' promise burnt in her mind as she saw the med bay doors looming. They slid open silently to reveal a man with greying hair and a snowy white lab coat. His name badge identified him as Dr. Vander.

"You must be Stevens" he said calmly, watching as the three men fought to strap her into the dentist-style chair.

"Keep away from me" Jack snarled, as she strained futilely at the restraints.

"I have my orders, as you have yours." He dismissed the men, who left without a word. "Now all I have to do..." he loomed over her with a needle.

"Fuck you!" she spat, eyes shooting sparks.

Ignoring her, he grabbed her arm, slipping it in quickly and pushing the plunger down.

Jack felt the effects immediately. Her vision blurred and her hearing grew fuzzy, but something inside her urged her to fight it.

Why? She questioned herself weakly; I'm so tired of it all... A voice pierced through the sickly haze,

"Not _my _daughter"

What? Jack thought, fighting against the black tide of unconsciousness.

"Not _my _daughter"

Suddenly a vision exploded before her eyes.

"They're not getting her Michael!" the woman's tone was filled with desperation.

"Take her and go!" a male voice cried.

"Michael, there isn't time! It's me they want..."

She was a young girl, Jack realised, held safe in a woman's arms with a maroon silk scarf held tight in her chubby fists. The scent of vanilla with undertones of honey permeated the air.

Gentle hands lifted her away; all the while she kicked and screamed because she didn't _want _to let go...

"Mummy!" the words tore from her young lips, ripping into her soul.

Oh God, her Mother! Suddenly she could remember the men breaking into the house, charging into the room, her Father tucking her close to his chest as he tried to escape with her. To protect her.

"Mummy!"

Her Father, leaving his wife to save his daughter.

"I'll hold them off, run!"

Her Mother, silk scarf flying as she whirled with shivs outstretched.

"Furyan bitch!" an intruder spat as her Father swept her out the door. The sounds of the struggle got fainter as he ran. Her face was wet with tears, only she remembered being too scared to cry. They were her Father's, flowing freely.

Anger followed the rapid shock as she wondered how she could have possibly forgotten them, and everything they had done for her.

Her Father placed her in the arms of a woman waiting on the ramp of a space cruiser. It was her first fosterer, the one who had died in a road collision a few years later.

"Save my daughter!" he had cried desperately.

"But Jenisae!" the woman protested.

"I'm going back for her" he'd stated firmly.

Jack remembered screaming, clawing like a wild beast at the kindly arms that held her.

"Daddy! Daddy! Nooo...!" she'd wailed

Then he was running, head down, arms pumping as his long legs ate up the ground.

Her younger self screamed and darkness closed the scene, the sound of weeping in her ears – her own broken sobs.

As the vision faded she came to, suddenly aware of where she was; lying on a bed in a room that had obviously been stripped of anything that could ever be used as a weapon.

Groaning, she sat up, hand to her head. She felt like someone had been using it as a punch bag. Her tongue was gluey, sticking to the roof of her mouth. Swinging her legs down, the room spun and lights danced in her eyes.

"Awake are we?" a voice mocked.

Gently turning her throbbing head she saw Brandon sitting in a chair in the corner.

"You!" she hissed, forcing her weak muscles to move.

"Me" he said calmly "funny, Vander nearly lost you. What a pity that would have been" he smirked. "Still, at least you avoided cryo. I _had _heard some stories about you."

Jack looked away, wondering what he was getting at.

"Stories about how you're really awake the _whole_ time. Your little dead friend Saunders told me."

Jack flinched as he stood and stepped closer.

"So, is it true?" he whispered cruelly "little Jackie is aware of everything going on, but is completely...paralysed?"

He laughed harshly as her eyes flashed.

"It's a shame I can't test that theory. We're at the Damask now." He grinned, his whole face manic. "Course, it's not one of _ours_."

"But I thought we were ages away" Jack spluttered weakly, her voice hoarse as she desperately tried to understand.

"You slept for four days!" he informed her, his eyes roving over her. "Vander was only supposed to knock you out for a few hours, but you reacted badly." He tutted. "What a shame. Still" he shrugged "not long now."

"Til what?" the effects were wearing off and now Jack could suddenly begin to think clearly again.

Brandon glanced at his watch as if he hadn't heard her. Turning on his heel he went to the door, "open!" he barked, and it did, revealing two pale faced thugs outside. It shut silently behind him, leaving Jack to think over all she remembered. Her Mother, her Father, these people she'd forgotten so easily, they'd died to save her.

Tears ran unheeded down her cheeks as she allowed herself to cry for the love she had lost and the life she had been denied.

After a few minutes she straightened up, wiping the tears away with her shirt cuff. She was stronger than this. Riddick had already chided her on herself piteous streak...

Riddick! At his name a surge of hope buoyed her. If only there was a way she...

"'ere we go" a guard said gruffly, lumbering towards her as the doors opened. Jack jumped up, arms raised defensively, even as she swayed with the after effects of the drug.

"Now don't be difficult missy, or I'll have to get the Necromongers here to take you out."

Necromongers? The word sent horror spiralling through her. These were the people she'd heard Imam and the other Council Members discuss (she'd become adept at eavesdropping from an early age).

It was frighteningly easy to compare these men to the ones who had ruined her life. She could almost see their faces, with their flat black eyes and cold, grey armour. These were the people who had killed her family, destroyed worlds and wiped out countless races, all in the name of their belief.

For this she swore she would have her revenge, whether she lived through it or not.

Belaying his appearance the human guard managed to cuff her and lead her out. Three Necromongers followed.

"Where are we going?" she asked, struggling to ease her cramped muscles.

He glanced at her, eyes darting furtively around as he replied quickly "the cargo hold."

The whole ship was abuzz and a strange tension gripped Jack as they went deeper. Through the small windows that dotted the sides she could see another large vessel pulled alongside. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen before.

It was Necromonger technology she realised, somewhat belatedly, covered in freaky faces, sleek, swooping lines and powered by energy stolen from a race long-dead.

"So that's the Damask" she whispered, her green eyes wide.

Tapping a code into a panel hidden on a wall, two large steel doors slid open, revealing a monstrous chamber within. Jack stopped on the threshold, transfixed by the strange sight that greeted her.

Cargo bays were always large, taking up near enough one third of a ship - especially a transporter, but this was _huge, _probably capable of fitting at least three space cruisers inside and then some.

Today it was empty of cargo, all except for a strange stone structure that was being painstakingly erected against the large wall opposite.

Pushing her roughly forward a few strides, Jack was shoved into a hard-backed chair facing it, with the doors behind her. She was un-cuffed but then tied to the chair.

"What is it with your fetish of tying me down?" she muttered darkly.

"Smart mouth" Brandon snapped, smacking her across the face hard enough to split her lip. He'd strolled over from where he had been observing the construction.

Touching the split tentatively with her tongue she blinked, and then stated quietly "it's like the sketch, like what you wanted me to find and transport. Only you didn't did you?" She shook her head, hair falling loose from its once tidy plait. "It was all a farce."

"Well, I had to reel you in somehow. I thought I'd appeal to that huge ego of yours - the one that marked you better than my brother."

"What? Brandon you got it wrong..." Jack protested.

"That's Sergeant Brandon to you" he insisted arrogantly.

"Sergeant Brandon," she continued, tension thrumming through her, "you must have heard the Council talk about what happened to Imam and I. He died saving us."

Disgustingly it was the lie they had told on their arrival, how he'd died protecting them. As if, Jack thought bitterly, the bastard was a fucked up junkie.

"Yes, but he shouldn't have. He was a good fighter. A good man!" Brandon shouted, spittle flying. As if aware of how unprofessional he was being, he took a breath and repeated quietly "a good man."

He looked across at the arch and announced almost happily "but you're going to get your comeuppance soon anyway."

Jack tried not to laugh – he sounded like a comic book villain!

"So" she finally asked when she felt like she wouldn't suddenly lose control, "what's that stack of bricks all about?"

"Stack of bricks? Oh Jack, and I thought you were supposed to be bright."

Jack scowled, all the while fiddling with the bonds that bound her. She was hoping to keep him distracted so she could get free. She watched, somewhat puzzled, as the men she could now identify as Necromongers lit torches on either side of the now-finished arch. These guttered and smoked, sending dark swirls to the cavernous ceiling above.

"What's with the torches?"

"Hmm?" Brandon muttered, distracted "oh, it's just to add atmosphere." He grinned, a mad light in his eye. "We're expecting company."

The harsh electrical lights flickered unsteadily overhead. Jack shuddered at the shadows that were thrown up the walls. In an attempt to take her mind off the darkness, and the fear it evoked, she searched vainly for a topic. Brandon appeared to like talking to her; perhaps he believed it frightened her.

"Why are you working with the Necromongers? I thought they were the scum of the earth."

She'd obviously struck a chord. Brandon stiffened momentarily, his eyes narrowing "perhaps I did underestimate you." He seemed to think through what he was going to say, giving Jack the opportunity to work one hand almost free.

"Ah, Whithers." The man appeared like a ghost, his military uniform replaced by strange white robes, as he walked up to the arch.

"He's an ancient languages professor you know," Brandon remarked "the Colonel thing was just a disguise. Convincing though wasn't he?"

Jack frowned; this hadn't been a spur of the moment thing. This was an elaborate plan that had taken years in the making.

"Hard to take in is it?" Brandon mocked, watching her face. "Everything I mean, not just Whithers."

"Why?" she finally asked, "what is _this_ all about?"

"Oh Jack, you mean to say _you_ don't know?!" he laughed, the look of a man unhinged. "Whithers, care to explain?"

"Uh sure."

Suddenly it was easy to see that he'd just played a part, she realised, watching him walk over to where the stone arch reared up against the wall.

"See these markings on the stone?"

"Barely" Jack muttered, peering forward. Brandon cracked her across the back of the head.

"Pay a-fuckin'-tention!" He nodded at Whithers to continue.

"Yes, well, they are Furyan" he finished.

"Furyan?" she echoed warily.

"You have heard of them haven't you?" patronised Brandon.

Jack nodded, relieved that he didn't seem to know the truth about her past. From the words that still resounded clearly in her mind, "Furyan bitch!"

Whithers continued "hundreds of years ago, before the colonies descended this far out, there existed a race of warriors..." His voice faded out as another, a stronger, surer one took up the tale.

"They were a brave race, full of fire and spirit. Beyond their time they had technology and power in equal parts. Technology to fly amongst the stars and defy even death. Power enough to see things before they happened, before they came to pass.

As people they were strong and wilful, and their Queen was no exception. She was a warrior Queen and undefeatable in battle.

There came a time when others came to their world seeking solace in its wonders. One came who hid his true intention behind the bright eyes of a young man. Searching for his true purpose, he uncovered a prophesy that told of his own demise, of how the people who welcomed him now would one day end his life. So began his trail of destruction as the leader of the Necromongers.

Yet one thing was overlooked.

In all things there is an opposite, a ying to its yang, and in this it was no different. For the woman who told of his death by the hand of her own race, also muttered another in the ear of the Furyan Queen herself and of its saviour;

Silver eyes in the dark,

In darkness only see,

But if found the heart that is hidden,

Then true fury sets us free.

So began the exploration amongst the stars in defence of this threat. Choosing a master of each craft, she sent them to a little known primitive planet – Earth. Here they hid the lifeline of their race, to await the day of days when the one who would right all wrong would return to save them from their fate."

Jack blinked, the voice was gone and it was just Whithers again.

"...rebuilt brick by built here, after it was uncovered entombed within the walls of St. Paul's Cathedral."

Gazing blankly at the arch, Jack's mind raced. An inscription was glowing through the Furyan markings;

"The time for change has come."

One quick look ensured that no one else had noticed the luminous words.

"Why bring it here?" she asked quickly, shifting uncomfortably. Her hair was spilling down her back after getting hit around the head and her clothes felt stiff and grubby.

"It was a deal" Brandon stated blandly, walking around her. "One I made with the Lord Marshall."

"You made a deal with the fuckin' Necros?! Are you _insane?_" she eyed him a moment. "Actually, don't bother answering that."

He ignored her. "My world would be saved if I gave them this, gave them _you."_

"Me?"

He laughed coldly "seems they've been looking for you for a long time Jack, or should that be – Audreya?"

Audreya? Like leaves in the wind her mind felt scattered, unable to cope. Everything was coming apart at the seams...

Memories long buried rose up, choking her. Closing her eyes she breathed deeply, her heart pounding.

"Don't fall asleep" he snapped, tapping her cheek none to gently, "you might just miss something important."

Just then the thump of boots could be heard echoing down the corridor outside. It was the only warning before the doors slid open. Brandon stiffened, eyes fixed on the men who entered. Three lead the way, one evidently the leader flanked by another on each side.

Behind came a small army, each man identical in a uniform of heavy, grey armour. Ornate lines curved over each piece in elaborate designs. Their eyes were dark in their metal helmets and were as bleak as death itself.

Without an introduction Jack knew who the Lord Marshall was. He was the one whose eyes had focused on her with an almost frightening intensity.

Paying no heed to Brandon, Whithers or any other, he stepped forward and uttered in a deceptively soft voice "Audreya, at last we meet." A smug smile crossed his face as Jack's eyes narrowed.

"Murderer!" she spat, her eyes green slits of fury.

"Silence!" One of his commanders said sharply "have some respect!"

"_Thank you_ Vaako" the Lord Marshall said quietly, tugging his sleeves down. Moving so he stood beside Jack in her chair, he studied the building of the steps before the arch, then said almost conversationally "you de Darriaes have always been a pain in my side, always so good and proper, even with your Grandfather's pathetic attempt to reach an agreement." He brushed his hand over her hair, grabbing it roughly as he yanked her head back. "Shame it didn't do any good."

Jack's head was already reeling. De Darriae, the name rang in her mind, conjuring up images of sunshine and happiness. "I loved my family" she whispered quietly, tears rising in her eyes for innocence lost.

"You bastard!" she yelled, standing up in one fluid motion and swinging the chair at him. She'd freed her right hand, but her left hand was still attached. The chair shattered as it hit his armour, pieces flying all over the place as her left hand came free. Caught unusually unawares, he stumbled back, falling into his guards.

"Restrain her!" he roared, struggling to get up with the many men surging to assist him.

Jack didn't care, throwing herself into the crush to get at him. In her fury she felt undefeatable and fearless as she fought the Necromongers charging her.

She fought the way Riddick had taught her to, with a contained deadly force that put a strong power behind each blow. Even so, her attack did little to hurt them, serving only to antagonize the men further. Not before, however, she caught the bastard across the face with her boot heel, his men giving her the perfect opportunity as they lifted her bodily away.

Touching his cheek as his men held her arms behind her; the Lord Marshall finally spoke "been a long time since I've seen my own blood."

Jack fought furiously at the men restraining her as he stepped even closer. Her hair was completely loose now, flowing down her back like rippled silk.

"You look so much like your mother like that, I almost feel like I'm looking at a ghost. She too was just as wild, just as misguided" his lips twisted as he recalled the past. "She died in front of me you know" he finally added "her blood flowed over the floor like a crimson tide..." he trailed off "but it did little to wash away her sins."

Suddenly the lights overhead began to flicker again, the torches guttering wildly, sending shadows dancing up the walls.

"Brandon!" he called angrily "just what is going on here?"

Men scattered as an alarm sounded from deep within the ship. There was only one thing to indicate what was to happen next, a faint scuffling at the rear of the guard followed by a wet-sounding gurgle.

The lights then gave out completely, leaving the chamber as dark and shadowed as a tomb.

"I, I don't know Lord Marshall," came his shaken reply. "I'll send someone to look into it immediately."

Jack's ears heard the familiar rasp of a blade and gasped, whispering " Riddick..."


	20. A Fatal Fury

"Looking for me?"

The two thugs on either side of Jack dropped to their knees as Riddick took them down, his shiv caressing their jugulars in brutal kisses of death.

His eyes glowed molten silver in the gloom as he looked at Jack's battered face. Reaching out as if to touch her, he cursed, sliding into a fierce attack that left the man creeping up behind him on the floor and gasping his last breath.

"Did not know who he was fuckin' with" muttered Riddick darkly, kicking the body out of his way as he stepped over to Jack.

"You ok?" he rumbled, mercurial eyes searching hers.

"Yeah," Jack finally managed, looking a little stunned from the sudden rescue. "What did you do?" Her eyes widened at the ensuing chaos.

A wicked grin flashed across his face. "Got shiv happy in the navigation room and maybe started some electrical fires." He shrugged casually, though inside his beast was raging.

"What now?" she asked, as he grabbed her arm and tugged her forward.

"Shit Jack, we get out of here." Disbelief had him shaking his head, was that idea not obvious?

"Then what, you go and leave me again?"

Riddick couldn't believe what he was hearing. Could she not see...? Stopping suddenly, he felt her career into the back of him. Snarling, he found himself saying, "How can you...?"

"I do hate interruptions – don't you?" the cold tones had Riddick's every muscle locking down with tension. Pushing Jack behind him, but retaining his grip on her arm, he turned to face the Lord Marshall.

"Furyan sympathiser!" spat the armoured commander beside him.

"Now, now Vaako" the bastard soothed, "we were all misguided once. We all began as something else."

More torches flared up alongside the walls as the other Necromongers lit them.

"Rustic" Vaako muttered, looking around.

Riddick too scanned the room, only he was searching for an escape route. He felt the Lord Marshall lock his cold, hard gaze on him, a calculating look on his pale face.

"Join me" he stated persuasively "become part of something great, or die..."

Vaako hefted his axe to his shoulder, his eyes flat black. Riddick's fists tightened on his shivs in response.

"Consider this," the Lord Marshall continued, ignoring Riddick's lip curling with disgust "if you fall now, you'll never rise. But if you choose another way, the _Necromonger _way, you'll die in due time and rise again in the Underverse."

Riddick pretended to consider, "and the girl?"

"Her fate, and that of her people, was sealed a long time ago."

"What do ya mean by that?" Riddick asked his gravelly tones dangerously low. _Her _people were _his_ people and he wanted to know the truth before he gutted the fuckin' pig.

"She is needed to open that portal" the Lord Marshal stated calmly, appearing to have no qualms with informing him.

Riddick guessed it had something to do with the dicks in armour.

"Her blood and, ultimately, her death, will release an army that will destroy everything I've built." The Lord Marshall showed rare emotion as he spoke through clenched teeth, "I'm not about to let that happen."

Vaako's lips curved in a wicked grin, "that's why we're here."

"Can you not read the scripture on the arch?" the Lord Marshall questioned, his eyes straying to Jack, just visible behind Riddick.

"Enlighten me" Riddick replied dryly.

"Vaako?" the Lord Marshall gestured.

"Through rock and stone, by blood and bone,

The warrior will rise,

The strength of a race in their bearing,

The glaze of glory in their eyes."

Beneath his hand, Riddick felt Jack's pulse jump. Moving his head slightly he caught her eye, frowning as she mouthed "it's different."

Restless, Vaako stepped forward and urged harshly "take the Lord Marshall's offer, and bow."

With a face of stone and eyes as cold as ice, Riddick found his hand tightening on Jack's arm. "I bow to no man."

"He's not a man!" the commander insisted furiously. "He's the Holy Half- Dead who has seen the Underverse."

Jack snorted behind Riddick and he pinched her arm warningly.

"How long before he's promoted to full dead?" he queried his tone deceptively soft, tilting his shiv so that the gentle glow from the torches danced up the blade.

"How dare you threaten the Lord Marshall!" roared Vaako.

Swiftly, the Necromongers surrounded them, their weapons held ready.

"Shit" he heard Jack mutter, "pirates Riddick?"

The beast inside growled as she slipped to stand before him, her stance defiant and proud.

"What if I go willingly-"

"No Jack" he thundered.

"-would you release him then?"

The Lord Marshall appeared to consider it for a moment before replying. "Strange how things come full circle. Your Mother said the same about your Father."

Riddick watched Jack's hands tighten into fists. "And?"

"No. He must be cleansed or die."

"Stalemate" someone muttered and Riddick couldn't have agreed more.

Suddenly there was a commotion at the entrance. Brandon had returned, but this time he wasn't alone. The footsteps sounded hurried as they pushed their way through the ranks and it was soon evident why.

Brandon was being held at gunpoint.

A shaking hand held the grey pistol to his temple.

"Whithers?" Jack asked softly.

The man in strange white robes looked up, his eyes unfocused and wild.

"And who are you?"Questioned the Lord Marshall with a sneer.

"My, my name is, is Laurence Whithers and for the past thirty years I have studied your decimation of a race of, of nobility and power..." Whithers' voice trembled, mirroring his grip on the gun.

"Which one?" commented Vaako dryly.

It was the wrong thing to say, Riddick realised, conscious of the threat of a man unused to a weapon. In some respects more dangerous than a man who _could_ handle one.

Whithers' face grew red as his temper built. Riddick, aware to his bones of every tick in the man's jaw, moved Jack and himself sleekly out the way as he inadvertently squeezed the trigger.

Thick, maroon splatter flew through the air, before the chamber rang with the sound of returning gunfire.

Whithers jerked back, his chest a gaping bloody mess, the crimson liquid all the more evident on his snowy white robes.

Riddick watched unmoved. As far as he was concerned, both those men had been dead from the minute they'd started fucking around with Jack. The only thing bothering him was that he wasn't the one to dish out the justice.

The few remaining men of Brandon's turned on the Necromongers at these violent deaths, and fighting quickly commenced in earnest. Blood soon hung heavy in the air like fog as each side took heavy blows from knives, guns and axes.

Shivs in hand, Riddick joined the deadly dance, never missing a beat as he cut and sliced. Jack was to his left having armed herself with an ornate Necro blade.

The light from the torches was finally beginning to affect him, the smoke stinging his sensitive eyes. Grumbling, he was forced to put his goggles on.

"Jack" he called, avoided a swinging axe. Blood sprayed across his face and goggles as he reacted with a vicious swing. "Turn around towards the exit." He gutted another Necromonger, piercing through a weak spot in the armour. "Jack" he repeated, jaw tight.

Spinning, her hair flying out around her like the wings of a kestrel, her eyes glowing like green jewels, she'd never looked more beautiful – or deadly.

Looking up, she caught his gaze and nodded, her face resolute as she reaped a killing blow.

Knife held ready, she glanced warily about as she turned as smoothly and as gracefully as a dancer –unable to avoid the plunging blade of the Lord Marshall who had appeared as if from nowhere.

"No!" Riddick roared, watching as her weapon clattered to the floor and she stumbled back, her face as white as bone.

The beast within roared, fighting for dominance. Loosing the reins, Riddick became one with its rage, allowing it to infuse him with its power. He barely registered the men he took down, his attention remaining fixed on Jack. The Lord Marshall himself strolled calmly over to where she had crumpled to the floor.

The evil-looking blade still protruded from her side, staining her hands dark with blood as she clutched at it. With a roughly muttered curse Jack slid it out, throwing it violently away from her. The smell of her blood permeated the already-tainted air, distinctive only for what it meant to him.

Riddick fought bitterly to get to Jack, her attempts to stand wounding him like any mortal weapon, watching powerlessly as she dragged herself to the steps (at the platform of the arch) in order to stand.

Through his rage, Riddick saw the Lord Marshall watch Jack through hooded eyes as she eventually stood, though swaying slightly.

Finally free of the heaving ranks, Riddick swung his shiv at him in a stroke that should have swept clean through the Lord Marshall's jugular.

He blurred quickly out the way. "You're not the one to bring me down" the Necromonger taunted. Moving faster than anyone had a right to, he struck Riddick with a blow that sent him spinning through the air and crashing to the floor, sliding through the spilt blood.

Pushing himself up, Riddick regarded him through eyes as hard as any blade.

"So you _can _kneel" a masked warrior commented, flicking up his visor to reveal flat black eyes – Vaako.

The room fell strangely silent as an odd stillness fell over everyone in the chamber. The Lord Marshall himself was caught blurring bizarrely towards Jack.

The air in front of Riddick began to shimmer with pale blue light, before it very delicately began to tear itself open. A vision of rolling hills appeared hazily in buttery sunshine, but then the land turned murky brown and the sky a dirty steel grey.

A woman, clad in an armour that stirred long forgotten memories, walked slowly up from a distance. Behind her the once lush rolling fields became miles and miles of tombstones. A land of the dead.

Standing before him, she finally spoke "my name is Shirah and I bring a message from our people." She paused, her eyes focusing intensely on his face as she gestured to the land behind her. "Look at our world, at the graves of those who didn't escape years ago. There is no future until we settle our past...for all of us who bear the mark."

She glanced over at the blur that was the Lord Marshall, her mouth set in a grim line, her eyes flashing angrily. Riddick's own eyes narrowed, his blood racing through his veins as his anger grew.

"I think you know now" she continued. "I think you know who tore Furya apart. I want to give you the opportunity to put it right." She reached her hand out towards him. "This mark carries the anger of an entire race, but it's going to hurt."

Struck suddenly immobile, Riddick could do no more than watch as she placed her hand on his chest. Silver veins raced down her arm, building in her palm and sending an almost soothing, warming glow through him. This grew in intensity, becoming almost unbearable as it built up; brighter than a star, hotter than the sun, deeper than the ocean and colder than the moon. It radiated through him, overwhelming his defences 'til it streaked like fire through his veins, glowed like mercury in his eyes. Throwing his head back he let loose a feral cry that released a wave of overflowing fury from him in form of pure power.

Shirah had disappeared when he opened his eyes again, a large circle of empty space and fallen men, surrounding him.

Rising stiffly, Riddick moved to Jack's side, swinging her up in his arms before the Lord Marshall could get to her. He held her tight to him in the hope it would slow the bleeding.

Almost in slow motion, a single drop of blood ran down Jack's arm, hanging limply at her side. Trembling on the tip of her fingertips, all it took was Riddick spinning around to face the Lord Marshall surging towards him, for it to fly free towards the arch.

For a solitary moment it felt like the whole room was holding its breath, watching as the single scarlet drop trembled on the mirror-like surface that had appeared under the stone structure. Like a pebble on a pond, ripples spread out from where it touched, turning into glowing silver threads that traced their way around the strange symbols, 'til the chamber shone with its light.

Standing with his back to it, Riddick watched the faces of the men - a mixture of fear and resolution.

"They are coming!" shouted the Lord Marshall, a crazed light in his eye. "Hold firm!"

Glancing down at Jack in his arms and the hoard of men before him, Riddick made his choice. Jack was dying, her life's blood dripping in vivid red streams down her left arm, hanging lifelessly by her side.

"Jack" he urged, concern roughening his voce to an even deeper rumble. "Damn it Jack. Don't you leave me you hear?"

"You should know" she gasped, her eyes fluttering, her face pale as death. "Should know..." she whispered weakly.

"Jack" Riddick muttered, shaking her lightly. "Are you with me – Jack?"

A faint smile crossed her lips, even as she fought to open her jewel-green eyes with their haze of tears. "I was always with you. I was."

She reached up to caress his face, smearing her blood across his cheekbone, as she looked into his eyes. For a moment he lost himself in their emerald depths, in the emotions that flickered like quicksilver in their shadows, then her eyes slid closed as her head lolled back.

"Jack?" he coaxed, an unknown emotion ripping through him followed by an icy chill that flooded his veins. She couldn't leave him, not like this, not here.

Looking up, his face set in a blank mask; he heard Shirah's voice as if from a distance, "if I gave you the choice warrior, would you take it?"

He knew what she was asking, what truth lay behind her question.

Setting his jaw resolutely, Riddick turned back towards the arch and headed up the steps, Jack held securely in his arms. Behind him the Lord Marshall shouted something unintelligible. Ignoring him, he took himself and Jack through the portal. For a split second they hung as though suspended, a peculiar rushing in their ears that carried strange voices. These murmured to Riddick in tones he could barely decipher;

"It's your turn to save them..."

"For our people to live..."

"Only you..."

"Strength of all..."

Breaking through to the other side, he stumbled to his knees, gently lowering Jack to the ground. Examining the wound he'd kept tight to his stomach, he felt his beast roar with absolute blistering fury. The scent alone indicated it was fatal.

Almost tenderly, he reached down and brushed an errant curl across her forehead; felt her pulse beat erratically at her throat as her lashes fluttered against her cheek.

"It wasn't supposed to end like this" he rumbled unsteadily, watching her breathing slow. "It wasn't Jack."

Pulling her close he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, closing his eyes. Seconds later he lifted his head and wondrously touched his face.

A single tear tracked down his cheek.

**So, what do you reckon? **

**Once again, I just want to say a BIG thank you for all your reviews etc. They make me sooo happy...Oh and ForestReject? I hope you didn't get in too much trouble with your boss! Just tell them that it's Riddick and I'm sure they'll understand! ******

**(BTW: Next chapter is on its way so don't panic!!) **


	21. Shirah's Storm

She was so cold, so so cold, but Riddick was a red hot burning brand against her side. Waves of pain rolled through her, all consuming and undeniable.

All she could think was how, after finally learning who she was, she was going to lose it all. What was that saying? 'Life's a bitch and then you die?' It seemed to sum up the situation perfectly.

The coldness was spreading, rolling along her arms and through her stomach, numbing the sickening pain and dulling her senses. Memories flickered through her mind, like short clips caught on film. She was vaguely aware of Riddick, his arms tight around her as she let herself drift deeper. She felt like she was floating, like she was weightless.

One memory stood out, _his_ return to her those few, short days ago. His clothes had clung to him like a second skin from the rain, and his eyes had glowed with their familiar fire.

If Riddick was the last thing she saw, she would forever be grateful.

Suddenly a current rippled through her, disturbing the quiet peace, a glowing blue fire that had every nerve singing. Her body was as taut as a bow as she arched with the energy rushing through her veins. Blue light flared beneath her eye lids, forcing them open, lest she be blinded.

Barely aware of Riddick beside her, she convulsed as another wave of pure energy assaulted her.

"Jack?"

She could hardly hear his low rumble through the rushing in her ears. Her eyes stared past him, straight up at the stormy sky gathered above.

"It is time." The woman's voice seemed to resonate from all around. "Your destinies lie entwined and for the triumph of all, you _must _survive."

Thunder rolled as clouds raced purple-grey across the darkening sky.

Pure fire burnt through Jack from where her wound was pressed to Riddick's side. Tears streaming from her eyes, she gasped, suddenly able to focus on _his_ face carved as though from stone. Reflected in his goggles, her eyes blazed blue fire.

Slowly, gradually, the pain receded and the flow of energy slowed to a bare trickle. She could feel it through her very veins, but when she caught herself in Riddick's gaze again her eyes had returned to normal.

"Riddick?" she whispered softly. For a minute his arms tensed, perhaps to hold her tighter, before he spoke. "Jack," he replied, his gravelly tones sounding rougher than usual with incredulity "are you ok?" Quickly, he pulled his goggles off.

"I, I don't know." She felt shaky as she pushed herself away from him and attempted to stand. A look crossed Riddick's faced as she did so, muscles rippling as he stood and caught her arm to steady her.

"What was that?" he asked his mercurial eyes intense.

Jack chuckled weakly, shaking her head, causing her to throw herself off balance.

"God knows" she finally managed, steadying herself on his ready arm again. His question made her realise he hadn't heard the voice that had resounded from all around. It must have been just her.

"I don't believe in any God, so tell me." His tone left her in no doubt that he wouldn't let this go.

"A voice..." she said slowly, examining her now-healed side under the bloody tatters of her shirt. "She...told me that I was...needed."

Jack refused to look at him. How could she tell him the truth? It was ridiculous. Their 'destinies lie entwined?" It was like a bad novel, a cheesy film. Yet it seemed true. Here she was – alive and breathing.

"Let me have a look at that."

She finally glanced up, to find him closer than she realised, trying to see her side.

"There's nothing there" she insisted, his closeness doing things to her she wasn't ready to cope with yet.

"Jack" he said firmly, his voice permitting no arguments.

Grumbling slightly, she lifted her top enough so that he could see her clear unblemished skin.

"Not even a scar" he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. He brushed her side with his fingertips and Jack found herself skittering back, her cheeks heating with embarrassment.

Dropping the tattered, stained top back down, she swung around as an excuse to look at their surroundings and to avoid the intense, stomach-flipping look in Riddick's eyes. An emotion she'd never thought she'd see lurking in their depths.

"Where are we?" she asked quietly, feeling him step up behind her. He remained silent so, preparing herself, she turned back towards him.

"Jack" he began.

Suddenly, the sky exploded. The land, stretching out in bleak flat plains as far as the eye could see, shimmered like that of a desert mirage.

The archway behind them trembled, as though something – or someone, was trying to force their way through.

"Damn Necros" cursed Riddick, pulling his goggles on.

"They can't get through can they? I mean from what that arsehole Vaako or Vento, or whatever his name was said, I think they have to be Furyan."

He glanced at her thoughtfully, face unreadable. She wondered if he was running the inscription in his head as she was hers.

"Through rock and stone," she stated, "evidently means the arch. 'Blood and bone' probably literally means a person and...

"The warrior with the strength of their race?" Riddick interrupted smoothly, "I'm betting means a Furyan. They sure love calling us warriors."

Jack found herself grinning at his mocking tone. "So they won't be able to get through? I mean, only those of Furyan blood can. Right?"

"I'm not gonna wait around to find out." He replied darkly, his attention becoming fixed on the two large bands of storm clouds racing across the sky towards each other. Lightning sparked and flew whilst the thunder roared its fury.

"Holy shit" commented Jack, eyes wide. "We really landed in it this time!"

The clouds clashed and collided, ripping an azure blue whole in the sky that spun and twisted like a tornado. The ground shook and trembled as waves of long grass rose up like a rippling sea. In the distance, as though seen through water, the obscured lines of a cityscape appeared.

"Kelador" Riddick rumbled, his gaze fixed disbelievingly.

"Wha...?!" shrieked Jack, diving for the ground as a large cruiser shot over her head.

It had come from the turbulent sky above them, she realised, and not from the arch. Rolling over to stare at the now dark and still stone structure, she couldn't help but wonder how such a simple thing could cause so much trouble.

"We need to find out where we are-and when. That ship is so old school it shouldn't be capable of getting into the air, let alone landing from it." Riddick's voice broke into her reverie as he checked his shivs.

Dusting herself off, Jack glared green daggers at the speeding ship.

Riddick's face softened infinitesimally as he asked "you sure you can keep up?"His gaze lifted as he looked beyond her, his gaze tracked the cruiser in the distance.

"I can keep up!" she replied indignantly, regaining his attention.

A smirk crossed Riddick's lips at her identical answer from the Kubla Khan all those years ago. She knew he was remembering his reply, _maybe someday..._

"_This _is the day. I'm not a little kid anymore." She said determinedly. Eyes locked in his; she trembled in the strength of his gaze. Finally, he looked away, releasing her.

"There's gonna be one speed...mine. If you can't keep up..."he bit off sharply.

"Don't step up" Jack continued. "It's ok Riddick. I survived that," she gestured at the blood that darkened the ground. "I'm ready."

Glancing back at her, he flashed her a wicked grin before racing after the cruiser, seemingly effortlessly.

Great, she thought sourly, one minute you're dying and the next you're running after a ship that probably contains someone who _wants_ you dead. Riddick as well. Yeah, it really was a _good_ day.

Continuing with her mental grumbling she picked up the pace behind him – at a steady jog.

"Jack, you comin' or what?"

Rolling her eyes, she lengthened her stride and raced up side. "So, what's the plan?" she asked, breathing slightly heavier than usual.

"How's your side?" Riddick countered, ignoring her question.

"Fine" she stated, her eyes narrowing. "Not a mark, not a twinge, not a _thing. _It's healed."

Riddick continued to run with his attention focused on the cityscape before him, apparently unaffected by the relentless pace, before saying evenly "we get to the city."

"And?" she quizzed, narrowly avoiding falling flat on her face thanks to a hidden hole.

"_And_ then we find out just what the hell is going on and how we get out of here."

Jack frowned, "where's here?" Finally, her curiosity winning out she asked quietly, "where's Kelador?"

"Kelador?" He rumbled, flashing a look at her that had her wishing she could claw the words back. "You mentioned it earlier" she reminded, her throat suddenly dry.

He surged on a few steps silently, leaving her a little behind, his striking face set. It was suddenly evident to Jack that every stride he took had a purpose, every move he made had a reason, and never were they wasted.

Eventually he spoke, his words travelling back to her, his gravely tones haunted.

"Furya."


	22. Mark of the Seer

"Furya." The word lingered, filled with bleak despair.

It was ludicrous. His planet, _this_ planet, was dead. A ruined world. He'd sensed it when, manacled and gagged, he'd been flown by it, off to another useless Slam.

A telling aura of desolation and waste always surrounds a dead world, one that envelops all those who trespass close enough for it to taint them. He'd felt it, all but seen it. So what was this? A hologram? Shirah's words echoed in his mind. "I want to give you the opportunity to put it right..."

Biting back a snarl he raced on, stopping only when he'd reached the outskirts of the city. Jack was with him, doing pretty well after what happened.

Just what _had _happened? The thought spun in continuous circles through his mind. She'd been dying, she _should _have died. One minute her life had been slipping away, the next the strange blue fire had healed her – completely. Jack had said that a voice had told her she was needed. A woman's voice. Shirah? Why though, what was Jack needed for...?

"Now what?" Jack muttered, breaking his train of thought. Buildings rose up before them, a sudden change from the rich green rolling fields. The dusty road they'd started following wound its way out of the field, bringing them to the edge where a row of market stalls ranged on either side, leading deeper into the city.

Riddick found his eyes straying to the shadowy alleys that lead off the main street, promising places of darkness and safety. Moving so as to not draw attention to himself and Jack, he strolled casually through and slipped into one. A few odd glances were thrown their way from amongst the crowd, but nothing that had his hackles rising.

Sliding his hand into his cargos, he felt the reassuring edges of his credit chips. "I'm gonna go and scout the place out" he rumbled, adjusting his goggles in the strange light that filtered through the scattered clouds overhead.

"And me?" Jack put her hands on her hips and arched a brow.

Riddick had to fight his urge to smile, knowing it would only unnerve her with its intensity. "Stay safe here. Got your blade?"

"No, I lost it. _Remember_?"

The memory of her nearly leaving him, of her blood heavy in the air, her skin pale as paper, had his beast snarling with a deadly rage.

Kneeling, hiding the tightness in his jaw, he pulled a wicked sharp throwing dagger from his boot and handed it to her. "I'll want this back. 'K kid?"

Rolling her eyes, she sighed "yeah."

Leaving her was definitely going against his better judgement, but he was pretty sure if she came with him there'd be trouble – and not because she was so damned attractive. It had suddenly hit him moments before he'd nearly lost her, and there was no chance it would ever happen again. Not if he had anything to do with it.

No, it was more the bloodstained shirt, tangled hair and haunted look in her eyes that would draw the unwanted attention. The look that said she knew death intimately.

First things first, they needed food. Neither of them had eaten in who knows how long, and risking weakness wasn't an option. Second, Jack needed new clothes, looking like she did would only attract the attention of the wrong types of people – like the local do-gooders and law enforcement agents. Once all that was sorted, they could _both _find out more.

Snagging a dark cloak billowing loosely on the corner of a stall, he chucked a few creds down and prowled on. Wary and dangerous.

Within minutes he'd lost himself in the crowd. A strange atmosphere hung over the city as he strolled deeper, a feeling that played on his nerves and left him edgy.

Always aware of his surroundings, be it people, places or anything else, it didn't take long for something very odd to come to light.

Everything was out of date.

The technology being used was the kind he hadn't seen in years. Most, he was sure, wouldn't have been able to last this long. The way they made their steel into blades by hand and not machines was telling, as was the show of precision and pride they demonstrated. Other oddities, like the outdated way their stalls were laid out and the ancient flying craft that had all but swept Jack over, plagued his thoughts as he moved on.

For once his stature, his prowling grace, drew little attention even as he went about buying the fruit, meats and bread he wanted, plus a present for Jack. From the women he saw around in the market place his gift seemed to be the one of choice. The majority of men were of similar height and build, though none of them had had their eyes shined. Few, he knew, had (it burned like buggery after all).

As he headed back to Jack, his packages held easily in his arms, a scent hit him that had him whipping his head around so fast his neck cracked. It wasn't Jack, though it too was sweet with underlying hints of cinnamon.

Eyes searching the street around him, his gaze caught on that of a symbol painted in silver on a hanging sign of warm, brown wood. The mark of a seer. Only this eye had a handprint as a pupil, the lashes flaring wildly.

The image of the eye was world renown, but this one with its handprint twist was strangely familiar. It was as if he'd seen it before, in a time before his eyes were shined and he needed special goggles to see how the rest of the worlds did.

"Riddick?"

His name, hissed in Jack's tones, snapped him back to attention. Slipping back into the safety of the shadows, he thrust his bundled goods at her.

A few moments later, when all that was left were some crumbs and a juice stain on Jack's already filthy shirt, Riddick gestured at the last neatly wrapped package. His gift to her.

"What's this?" she queried confusion evident on her face.

"Open it" he rumbled, keeping his attention on the people who flitted past the entrance of their alley.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched her as she unwrapped it. Her face was a picture.

"A dress?!" She shrieked. "Riddick, you..."

"You can't call me Riddick here" he growled, checking the alley. "It's not safe. Call me..." he thought for a second "Rick."

"Rick?" Jack repeated doubtfully, shaking out the dress so its smooth emerald folds flowed over her hands in silky swathes. "It's so close to Rid... to your real name though."

"Exactly. I'd have to be a right dumb fuck to use something so like it" he smirked.

Shaking her head, Jack turned her attention back to the garment in her hand. "I cannot believe you bought me a dress. You must be insane if you think I'll..."

"Just put it on" Riddick interrupted rudely. "It's what all the other women are wearing and we need to remain inconspicuous."

"Fine, _Rick_" she said haughtily, her eyes flashing angrily at his tone. "You need to turn your back whilst I change then."

"Jack," he sighed "I need to watch all access points..."

"Which you still can with your back to me. Now _turn."_

Grumbling, he folded his arms and adopted a defensive stance with his back to her.

Muttering darkly about intrusive males, Jack changed. The gentle scuff of cotton overlaid by the delicate swish of silk soon filled the shadowed alley.

"All done" Jack announced, marching past him moments later. "Now, what have you found out?"

Standing before him, hands on her hips, her chin tilted up towards him, she looked like a stroppy child. Only the dress conflicted with that image, the silk revealing a figure that was all woman.

"Ri...ck?" she prompted, arching a brow.

Scowling (in regret for buying the stupid thing) he stated bluntly, "I hope there's room for weapons in that dress."

A flush settled high in her cheeks but she refused to drop her gaze. "Wanna check?"

About to attempt a reply, a familiar noise had him turning, eyes searching for the source – the clank of armour. A figure strode past the entrance of the alley, the light flickering over his uniform. It wasn't as ornate as it had been when Riddick had last seen it, but he still wore his breast plate and helm. His facial features looked different too, less pinched and worn, whilst the dark fire that had once burnt in his gaze now looked merely bright and hopeful.

It was the Lord Marshall.

Almost without thought Riddick began to track him through the now heaving marketplace. Banners flickered wildly overhead whilst the smell of fresh bread and exotic spices infused the air. Jack stayed close and silent behind him, needing no guidance.

Before long, with much glancing about, the Lord Marshall disappeared through a heavily curtained doorway. Outside, swinging gently in the breeze, hung the mark of the seer glinting gently in the sun.


	23. The Black Betrayer

The breeze trailed its fingers through the curtains in the doorway, sending the gauzy sequinned streams of fuchsia, gold, umber and saffron silk fluttering wildly. To Jack it seemed to beckon them closer.

Keeping to the shadows, Riddick and Jack crept through the heavily bannered alley that ran down one side of the Seer's dwelling. Listening intently to the muffled tones from within, they crouched outside a heavily draped window.

"I wish to hear the prophesy of the _Betrayer_." The voice was arrogant and demanding. It seemed the future Lord Marshal would only worsen with age.

"Not your fortune?" a feminine voice asked silkily.

"Fortune is of little..._importance_ to me. Now, what of the prophesy?"

A moment passed before she began to speak;

"The Betrayer walks among us,

A Black wolf in disguise,

What once was held in friendship,

Betrayed in blood and lies."

Jack found herself looking at Riddick in horror. Suddenly everything made sense; the portal, her death and resurrection. Riddick had removed his goggles and she could see clearly the emotion that blazed so hotly in his eyes. It was a look of clarity to the confused, a look that revealed relief at his now-known intention. To prevent the murder of an entire race.

Riddick's muscles rippled in his arms as he reached up to vault over the windows worn ledge.

"Wait," Jack pleaded, grabbing his arm, unable to prevent herself from luxuriating in the feel of him so firm and toned beneath her hand. She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Tossing her a cocky grin, Riddick traced a fiery trail across her cheek. "Don't worry about me kid," and with that he was gone. Barely ruffling the material as he slid through.

"Shit!" Jack cursed, eyeing both her dress and the ledge doubtfully. For Riddick it has been effortless, but he wasn't the one in green silk!

A crash of splintering wood resounded inside.

Great, Jack thought, now they're throwing furniture around!

Taking a few steps back, she took a breath before running and leaping up on the ledge. From there it was a case of swinging her legs over and dropping down into the room beyond. The smell of incense hung heavily in the dark, oppressive gloom.

A swathe of more curtains hung drunkenly across a large doorway through to another room. A wavering candle light threw heavy, awkward shapes in stark relief on the material.

"Riddick?" she hissed, rushing forward with her borrowed blade drawn. Sweeping the curtain back she paused, unsure, at the scene before her.

The Lord Marshal held the Seer against him, a thin blade at her throat. In the weak light from the candle his skin appeared wan and clammy. Splinters of wood dotted his armour whilst blood welled in his split lower lip.

"Riddick?" Jack repeated softly.

A shadow on the far wall shifted, moving forward 'til his eyes flared silver in the gloom. "Don't move Jack" he all but growled.

Ignoring him, she stepped carefully across the broken pottery and glass that lay strewn across the floor amongst the remains of a shattered table.

"Any closer and I slit her throat," the Lord Marshal stated, shifting warily back towards the wall.

Jack couldn't help but notice that the Seer looked strangely calm in such a threatening situation. Her pale green eyes were clear and steady, unclouded by fear.

"Like you could do that" Riddick rumbled, his voice dangerously low.

In a blur of motion he was across the room, spinning the Seer away and throwing the Necromonger into an ornate silver mirror. Shards scattered across the room in deadly slivers. The final candle guttered out amongst the waxy stumps that littered different surfaces. All Jack could see was the mercurial glint of Riddick's eyes. Gone was the light, teasing humour, the spark of rare humanity, instead they were flat, strangely dead. All emotion masked, like clouds across the moon.

A gasp to her left had her searching for the Seer who suddenly started to mutter;

"Silver eyes in the dark,

In darkness only see,

But if found the heart that is hidden,

Then pure fury sets us free."

"We know about the other prophesy" Jack said quietly to the Lord Marshal. Speaking to him had her fear rising, the memory of the burning pain and absolute terror in dying... Shaking her head she continued "_your_ prophesy. Of the _Betrayer."_

Another crash resounded through the room, followed by a heavy thump and Riddick snarling, "a lot of shits gonna go down because of you and your fucked up idea for a utopia. I'm not gonna let that happen."

A strained, hoarse chuckle rolled through the darkness. "My utopia, as you call it, will separate the worthy from the unworthy."

The sound of bone crunching swiftly followed, along with a shower of plaster from the ceiling, covering everyone in chalky white flakes.

A hand clutched Jack's sleeve. "Just one action can change worlds and save countless innocents," the Seer's voice urged, her silky tone gone.

Turning towards her, Jack stumbled back in shock, feeling shards crunch beneath her boots. The Seer's eyes were glowing with a strange blue inner fire.

"But do they all deserve to live?"A choked whisper asked. It sounded like Riddick was crushing the Lord Marshal's windpipe.

Jack's temper finally snapped. Ever since she'd first seen him it had been simmering beneath the surface. This was the piece of scum that had ruined her childhood, destroyed her family and stolen her future.

"Who are you to interfere? What right have you to decide?!" She finally shouted, fists clenched in anger about her dagger. "Do you even know why we're here? Do you even care?" Stepping towards his voice she continued, "We're from a future that you've created – and ruined. A place where any day may be your last dependent on _your_ fucking whim." Jack's anger felt like it had the intensity to scorch and burn.

A light flared in the corner of the room, lit by the Seer. Jack could now see Riddick pinning the Necromonger, his shiv against his throat. His face as hard as stone and twice as cold.

"Its scum like you that don't deserve to live," she all but spat.

The Seer finally spoke, her eyes still glowing fiercely. "_You _are the Betrayer," her voice dropped to a deadly whisper "and it will be _you_ who will betray all Furyans in blood and lies."

The statement stunned the Lord Marshal to silence.

"Surely you don't believe this... this ridiculous accusation?" he finally managed.

Riddick began to chuckle, his blade never wavering. "Not even thirty years could make a man out of you. You're shit scared."

The Lord Marshal's face darkened, then cleared as a thought struck him.

Suddenly he began to laugh too, relaxing against the wall, the tension draining out of him. "You can't kill me. I'm in your future." A smirk crossed his lips. "If I die, what will happen to you?" He looked across at Jack, his eyes smug and cold. "Didn't think of that did you? You worthless slut!"

Acting on blind fury, Jack found her hold tightening on Riddick's dagger before she flipped it and caught it handle first. "The name is Audreya Jacqueline de Darriae. Recognise it?" She sneered. Eyes narrowing she threw it directly at the cocky bastard will all the force she could manage.

Riddick barely had time to shift out the way before it embedded itself in the Necromonger's shoulder.

"You little bitch!" the bastard cried, throwing himself towards her.

That was all the excuse Riddick needed to sweep his ready shiv clean through the exposed jugular. Clutching his throat the Lord Marshal slid down in a lifeless slump, leaving a bloody smear on the wall.

Seconds followed, filled only with the sound of their breathing. Finally Riddick spoke "you ok, Jack?"

She gazed at him wordlessly, hardly able to believe that after everything, he was finally dead. The future was changed forever.

In a gesture so unlike him it made her breath catch, Riddick held his hand out to her. "Come on" he whispered softly. Smiling weakly she began to pick her way towards him. Reaching her hand out, their palms met, touched, entwined.

Then the world exploded in white.


	24. Devil's Dilemma

The floor was cool and hard beneath Riddick's cheek as he slowly opened his eyes to a world bleached of colour. His ears rang in the silence as he pushed himself up and saw Jack sprawled beside him.

"Jack?" he croaked reaching over to check her pulse. With relief he noted it beat strongly and steadily. Adjusting his goggles, he groaned "shit." His head felt like it had been hit with a sledgehammer.

The ringing in his ears continued in a worrying manner, 'til he realised there actually _was _an alarm going off. Looking around him he felt his brow furrow as his sight improved.

Where were they? The room was familiar, but different somehow. Suddenly, he clocked it.

A pile of shattered stone created an untidy pile before one wall, whilst torches flared weakly in their now-scorched settings.

They were back on the Ferdinand.

Unlike last time, the chamber was completely empty with no evidence that the Necromongers had ever been there. The air smelled clean, stale, but clean. Uncontaminated by death. All the bodies – and the blood, were gone. From experience he knew no cleanup crew could eradicate the very scent of death. It was an impossibility.

Standing unsteadily, he glanced at Jack, before moving closer to the rubble. The platform had caved in too, and it now sagged in the middle from the weight.

Tentatively he reached out and picked up a piece of rock, crushing it between his fingers as he wondered just what the _hell_ had happened.

"Riddick?" Jack's worried tone had him turning. She stood, swaying slightly, her face pale and wan. Pushing her unruly waves back, she asked "what happened? Where are we? Where's..?" she trailed off as she finally took in her surroundings.

"I don't know" Riddick rumbled quietly, eyes focused back on the rubble. "But I think this is what's left of the arch."

"Are we...back?" she asked softly, moving closer and touching his arm. Seemingly unconsciously, she slipped her hand down to tangle with his. For a minute he was distracted by the intimacy of such a simple gesture, then his hand tightened and he growled "I'm thinkin' so. You armed?"

"Yes," Jack assured him.

"First, if we are on the Ferdinand then my ship should still be docked in the hold." He paused, releasing her hand to draw his shivs. "We may meet some..._friends_, on our way," he drew the blades across each other in a way that sent sparks dancing down the razor edges. Glancing at Jack he smiled, all wolf. "They may still need some _convincing _that this party has ended."

Stalking towards the doors, he knew without looking Jack was following, would always follow. The realisation shook him, but there was little time to dwell on it now. Later, he promised himself, later he would face his demons head on.

The doors opened silently at their approach, revealing a cold, empty corridor. Only a gentle hum broke the silence as the doors closed, sealing the sound of the alarm behind them.

"Stay close" he muttered, before moving swiftly off. His tread all but silent, he rounded a corner cat quiet. Another empty corridor stretched on, the eerie drone their only companion. By the time they arrived at his ship, Riddick found himself thoroughly unnerved. Jack appeared less bothered, though her bright eyes were still wary as they boarded.

Seating himself in the cockpit, it took a minute for him to adjust to Jack strapping herself into the co-pilots chair beside his. Ignoring his blatant gaze, she continued to prep the ship before announcing dryly with eyes straight forward, "so where we flyin' this thing?"

Riddick felt a grin break across his face as he shunted his chair forward to take the controls. "Helion Prime, kid. Let's see what shit happened, or _didn't _in this case." The engine all but growled as he eased it out the hold, Jack studying the flight co-ordinates intently beside him.

"It shouldn't take long" she finally managed, sitting back in her chair as the computer registered her commands.

"A coupla days" Riddick amended, removing his goggles as he continued to scroll through a data panel.

"You got facilities on this thing?" Jack asked looking at him. Her gaze felt like a warm caress on his skin.

"Food replicator, bathroom and bedroom. Food could be better, but" he shrugged "I've had worse."

Jack made some noncommittal noise and slipped out her chair, leaving him alone to pilot. There was no need to ask if he could manage, but it felt a little..._off, _that she hadn't. A while later, after setting the ship to autopilot, he joined her by the replicator. She'd obviously just showered and changed – into _his_ clothes. Gone was the silky green apparel he'd bought her. Instead, she'd 'borrowed' (though it was highly unlikely he'd see them again) a zippy hoodie, tank top and cargos. The latter were cinched in a tight, grey bunch around her hips, whilst she'd rolled the too-long sleeves of the hoodie up to free her hands.

"Cold?" he asked, as she turned with a cup of steaming soup in her hands.

"Yeah" she said wryly, "'course I didn't expect you to have anything warm." She gestured at the top she was wearing. "Since when do you wrap up?"

Riddick shrugged "just another disguise." Brushing past her a blaze of awareness shot through him. Part of him knew he should walk away, ignore. He'd just spent who knew how long searching for the girl, rescuing her and now...Surely it made sense to have these...feelings? Swinging abruptly away from her, he knew Jack would be looking at him with that wondering look in her eyes, attempting to work out just what was going on.

"Riddick?" she asked softly.

Jaw locking, he was deafened by the triumphant roar of his inner beast as he allowed himself to look at her. For once, she looked unsure, eyes cautious as she said, "I just wanted to say thank you, for saving me, for being there, for not...abandoning me." Reaching up, she brushed a kiss across his cheek. That one touch was his undoing. It was so gentle, so hesitant, a simple token of appreciation – that it very nearly brought him to his knees. He knew then that there was no going back. The beast was loose, it's reins frayed as he caught her up against him, catching a flash of her startled green eyes before he lowered his mouth to hers, easing the cup from her grasp and placing it on the side. His lips moved in a deceptively gentle caress, coaxing a deeper, stronger response as she twined restlessly closer, wrapping her arms about his neck.

Riddick's beast all but purred with inner contentment when the kiss intensified, his hands moving through the silky mass that tumbled past her shoulders in soothing strokes. Her hands moved too, tracing the curve of his skull, the broadness of his shoulders. One hand dipped between them, learning the strong lines of his abs. All he could taste, feel, hear was Jack. It was like discovering a whole new side to life that he'd never known existed – and would never again after this.

Breaking the kiss, Riddick pulled back to look at Jack. Her lips curved in a truly feminine smile, lighting up her whole face and glowing in her eyes. Stepping even closer, she tried to kiss him again.

"No Jack," he grumbled quietly. It was so deep it rumbled like thunder. "I ain't any good at relationships, of keepin' in touch with people." He gently unwound her arms from his neck. "I don't want to hurt you." Releasing her hands he stepped back, pulling his goggles down to hide his eyes from her. "This was a mistake."

Confusion flared in Jack's green eyes as she gazed at him. "But I thought..."

His beast howled at him for the hurt he was causing her, for the wounded look on her face, but running with him...it just wasn't safe. He realised that even more now. He couldn't risk her. He needed to know she was safe – always. Once they returned to Helion Prime he would do the right thing, and leave Jack to her future. Without him.

"I'll be in the cock-pit" he stated bluntly, jaw locking as he walked away, fighting his inner demon as it snarled and clawed sharp enough to draw blood from his very soul.


	25. Demon's Desire

Jack couldn't sleep. Even after everything she'd been through; the fear, the stress, the fighting...her mind still whirred, her thoughts spinning in a constant circle. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Riddick's face. The pure steel in his gaze as he told her their kiss was a mistake, that he didn't want to hurt her.

"But don't you see Riddick," she whispered as she rolled over and punched her pillow angrily; "don't you see that you're hurting me right now?" Swallowing hard, she fought the rise of tears in her eyes. She'd promised herself she'd never cry over him and she wasn't about to break that vow. She'd never been the kind of girl to cry just because things weren't going well, if anything it just made her more determined.

Sighing, she flung herself off the bed, ignoring the sheet that slid to the floor in a rumpled heap. This couldn't go on. "Riddick?" she whispered softly as she padded into the cock-pit. A data-panel glowed in his hands as he reclined in his chair, features set and hard, eyes hidden by trademark goggles. A brooding silence lingered.

"Yeah?" Riddick's gaze remained focused on the panel as he scrolled through data.

A hundred different words rested on the tip of her tongue, things she could say, actions she could take, but she knew they'd only provoke the beast. The side of Riddick she felt she knew better than anyone. So she took the easy way out, "I can't sleep."

He didn't move and she wondered if he'd heard. "Riddick?" she repeated.

"What?" he snapped. "I can't do nothing for that Jack." A muscle flickered in his jaw, revealing his inner tension.

Eyes narrowing Jack slipped into the neighbouring chair, folding her legs beneath her and cupping her chin as she watched him. Remembering how it felt to kiss him...

"Jack," he growled "quit staring at me."

Jack blinked. "Why?" A flush crept into her cheeks at her petulant tone. She sounded like a child.

"Jack." He warned, a dangerous rumble underlying the single word.

"Fine," she muttered, turning to gaze out at the stars flashing past the viewing panel. Silence fell, only interrupted by the low clicking as Riddick scrolled through more data.

Jack shifted in her chair as she thought about what would happen when they finally arrived at Helion Prime. Even if she tried forever she knew she'd never be able to forget him and who could blame her? This was the man who had saved her, who had inspired her to become a flight pilot, in the hope that one day she could prove to him that she wasn't that helpless little girl he'd saved back on that dark planet. Instead, all she'd done was get herself involved in something that meant he'd had to come and rescue her, like some dumb princess in distress. Scowling, she found herself folding her arms at this realisation.

Although she wasn't looking at him, it was hard to ignore the sheer magnetism of his presence. He drew her senses like a lodestone and she soon found her eyes resting on him again. Skimming over him, burning his image into her memory for the time when he... when he, swallowing she looked away.

"Jack?" Glancing up, she was surprised to find Riddick's gaze ruffling her senses as he loomed over her, his hand held commandingly out.

Brow furrowing with confusion, she took his hand, eyes flicking to the data panel held in the other. She froze as he eyes raced over the headline that screamed, "Transporter crashes, two survive." Her eyes leapt to his face, knowing there was no need to ask what he'd been looking up, but wondering why.

"Riddick?" she queried softly, searching his marble features in bewilderment. Her heart crashed in her chest.

Ignoring her he rumbled lowly, "seven years ago I took two people off a planet. A kid, who everyone else thought was a boy and a Holy man, searching for New Mecca."

Jack stepped closer as he tugged her forward, his hand sending hot shivers through her.

"I took them both to Helion Prime and then," his arm wrapped around her waist, bringing her tight against him. "I walked away."

Jack couldn't breathe. Her lips parted to speak but he stopped her by tracing her lower lip with his thumb. A tremble of disbelief ran through her.

"Thought it would be easy, thought I could forget. Been lyin' to myself a long time." He removed his goggles, revealing eyes that glowed fiercely in the dim lighting. "Thing is," he continued, gaze dropping to her lips "I didn't realise-"

"Ridd..."

"-no Jack, you gotta...understand, I've killed people. A lot of people, and you...you deserve better." He rested his forehead against hers, his expression almost rueful. "Only," he chuckled deeply, his tone mocking "I don't seem to want to let you go."

Jack's heart leapt at his words, could he really mean..?

His arms tightened about her, "maybe it's the Furyan in me." She could hardly hear him, his voice dropping to a barely perceptible tone as he shrugged, sending his muscles rippling in a thoroughly distracting way.

Taking a moment to catch her breath, she studied his face, his features set like stone. He meant it; he obviously meant it, yet...

"What about earlier?" she asked, trying to ignore the thoroughly delicious heat radiating off him.

"Earlier," he said gruffly "I wasn't prepared. I needed time to think."

Jack arched a brow, attempting to overlook the intent gleam in his eyes as his arms tightened about her. "And now?" She shivered as his eyes dropped to her lips again, their gaze pure burning silver.

"Now I know. As much as I resent it, as much as I wanna run, I can't. For all that I want to protect you, leaving just isn't an option any more. Maybe it never was."

"You can't protect me if you're not here" Jack insisted fiercely, feeling fury flare within her, "and I'm not that little girl anymore Riddick. I don't _need _your protection, I just need..." her tone softened, "you."

Riddick's eyes closed, hiding the feelings that flashed in the silvery depths. "Don't say that Jack, don't put such...value on me. I ain't worth it. Being with me...you're at risk. They'll know you're my weakness. The one way they can get to me..."

"Who?"

"Any bastard who wants a piece of me."

Jack shook her head adamantly. "I don't wanna be your weakness Riddick. That's not me. I wanna make you stronger," she insisted. "Together we're stronger."

His eyes finally opened, a haunted look shadowing them. "If we do this, there's no going back."

Trapped in his gaze, she felt heat stir and rise between them. She paused to savour the moment, to remember the feeling that came hand in hand with finding what you've been looking for all along. "Never had a doubt," she whispered as his lips came down on hers. She felt his chuckle rumble through his chest, knew he understood what she meant.

The kiss itself was pure fire, racing beneath her skin and setting her alight. It was all consuming and undeniable, and nothing like the kiss they'd shared before. Riddick nuzzled her neck, pressing hot kisses across her already-flushed skin. Suddenly she was burning up in the tank and hoodie, flames of desire licking at her. With trembling fingers she reached for the zip, only to find him already there, easing it down with a surprising tenderness. Dropping it to the floor, Riddick stepped back, easing Jack into his lap as he sat in the pilot's chair.

Gazing into his shining eyes, Jack felt her lips curve as his arms tightened possessively about her. _This_ was where she was meant to be. Always.

"How long 'til we reach Helion Prime?" Jack finally asked, shocked by the huskiness of her voice. Her hands traced the heavy, muscles on his chest and skated over his shoulders as she sat across his thighs.

"Hmmm" Riddick all but purred, hands stroking her in a thoroughly distracting way, "at least another half a day." His eyes hooded and Jack felt her stomach flip at his wolfish smile. "Long enough..." he pulled her closer 'til his breath was a warm caress across her lips "...to show you..." his mouth touched hers in an achingly incomplete kiss "...to convince you..." His voice dropped to a gravelly rumble "...that you're mine. Always."

"My own dark hero" Jack laughed, lightening the intense mood, moments before passion and desire rose in an overwhelming tide, sweeping them both away.

**A/N. Kinda taking a risk on this one I know, but I'm looking forward to your reviews anyway. **

**I've read and re-read it numerous times and I've decided to finally bite the bullet and post it. Only one more chapter after this, so please tell me what you think!!**


	26. The End of Days

After the visual message he'd received that morning, Imam found himself waiting impatiently at the very docking port Jack had flown from. The message had revealed both Riddick and Jack in the grainy image, their body language speaking volumes. Riddick had stated "we're on our way Holy Man. See you at 11:00 hours." It had disconnected with a sharp click, leaving Imam reeling in giddy relief.

Aereon had already left, insisting she was needed elsewhere and Riddick and Jack would know what to do. "I believe in them" she'd insisted simply, dismissing his continued questions of "but what of the Necromongers? Are they truly...gone?"

"The odds are good" she'd stated, smiling serenely as she'd boarded her ship.

" 'Til we meet again," Imam had replied formally, undoubtedly relieved by her reply.

Now it was nearly time for their return. He wrung his hands as he paced, his mind racing with different questions; did they know about the reports of strange rushes in the sky, or voices on coms from places once thought dead? Even how the planetary status of different worlds had changed, civilisations once thought lost forever were now thriving?

The people of Helion Prime had changed too, gone were the haunted looks in their eyes, the dark mutterings of death and destruction, the fear of the strange comets in the sky. Now they looked to the future, one that promised hope and happiness.

Halting in his pacing, he surveyed the world about him. He didn't know how, but Riddick and Jack had managed to change the dark destiny of not just this world, but others like it. For that he couldn't be more grateful.

It was hard to believe that Riddick was the same man he'd met so many years ago. Certainly it had never occurred to him that a convicted murderer would ever come to be worth anything... He shook his head at his musings, knowing Jack would adamantly argue otherwise. She would say she'd always known.

A battered cruiser growled overhead as it slid into the docking bay. With baited breath, Imam watched as the scarred ramp slowly lowered, revealing two figures silhouetted against the inner light.

One ran forward, arms outstretched. "Imam!" she cried joyfully. "How are you?!"

"Very well Jack, very well" he chuckled, hugging her. "I see he got to you in time." He nodded at the other figure that was still prowling down the ramp, silver eyes goggled.

"Imam" the man rumbled, face impassive.

"Riddick, my friend." Imam shook his hand, aware to his bones of the leashed strength in the gesture. "Thank you for saving her, for saving _us._"

Riddick remained silent, his features stony. Jack elbowed him, pulling a face as he caught her easily, his arm slipping possessively about her waist. Imam watched unsurprised. It looked as though Riddick had finally admitted the truth to himself.

"Riddick and I..." Jack began.

"Wait," Imam interrupted, "perhaps it would be better if we returned to mine, to where we can speak in private."

Jack glanced up at Riddick, whose face softened fractionally. "Unfortunately Holy Man, I've promised Jack I'd take her some places." He shrugged, muscles rippling.

Jack tipped her head up to look at the sky, continuing softly "further than those stars Imam." She smiled joyfully at him. "I always said I wanted to see more, explore all that is out there. I made Riddick promise." A smirk crossed her lips as her eyes glinted playfully. "I was _very_ persuasive."

Imam cleared his throat uncomfortably as Riddick chuckled. "Don't say anymore Jack. I think you've shocked him enough."

Jack had the grace to blush, Imam noticed, even if the light in her eyes was anything but innocent.

"You don't need supplies?" He queried quickly, trying to ignore the overwhelming chemistry between the two of them.

"Nope" Jack quipped. Her green eyes glowed with excitement. "We're all set. I just wanted to see you, to let you know that we're both ok."

Riddick added "we also needed to check things out, see what happened with those Necros."

"You've managed that already?" Imam asked doubtfully.

"We updated as we flew in," Jack replied, unable to keep the smile of her face.

Imam couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her so happy, not even when she was accepted into the Academy. There was no question whether this was the right thing for her to do; perhaps it had all been leading to this all along. After being apart so long he wondered if their connection could ever be broken.

"Jack," Riddick asked, breaking Imam's reverie. "Would you mind gettin' some Altanian firebrew? We drank the last shot last night."

"Got creds?" she asked, winning free and holding out her hand demandingly.

"Women" he grumbled, searching his cargos. "Here." He tossed them to her, which she deftly caught.

"You are not worried about him leaving you?" teased Imam good naturedly as Jack walked away.

"Nah," she called back. "Big Bad couldn't fly that hunka tin without me." Looking over her shoulder, she blew Riddick a cheeky kiss, before sashaying on.

Imam glanced at him, wondering how he was going to handle a jibe like that. The 'Big Bad' shrugged, appearing resigned to Jack's antics.

"I take it you wish to speak to me alone?"Imam asked, unable to hide his curiosity. "What of?"

Riddick looked down, a muscle flickering in his cheek before he finally said "she nearly died. I nearly lost her."

There was no need to ask who, so Imam waited patiently for him as he continued.

"Don't know what I would've done..." he broke off, his jaw tight. "I want you to know I won't risk her again. She's safe with me." His voice rang with conviction as he looked him straight in the face.

Imam couldn't help but be confused. "Why are you telling me this?"

Riddick laughed harshly. "You're her guardian aren't you?"

"Yes but, it's not as if I could do anything, to you or her, if I did not agree."

"True" Riddick admitted "but this way there ain't a chance of you raising the bounty on my head to get my attention."

"That _is_ true" amended Imam dryly. He touched the claw hanging on his necklace and asked absentmindedly "so where to next?"

"Not really sure" he admitted. "Nowhere near Furya that's for sure."

"Furya?"

Riddick tensed, every muscle locking with suppressed power before stating darkly, "we messed with it too much."

His blunt statement had Imam eyeing him warily, before he said cautiously "it still exists?"

A heartbeat passed before Riddick slowly uttered, "yeah..."

"But..."

"Jack's here."

"Hey, I got two bottles" she grinned widely, eyes flashing a rich emerald green as she rushed up.

Imam sighed at the sight of the alcohol and looked across at the battered cruiser.

"Isn't there anything I can do to convince you to stay? I'd enjoy hearing more of what happened – of Furya."

The light in Jack's eyes dimmed a little at the reminder, bottles clinking as she moved closer to Riddick. Her hand slid to his, but it was Riddick who squeezed gently in comfort.

"Another time Holy Man. Gonna go for a run first." He looked down at Jack beside him, his face revealing a glimpse of the man he could be.

Imam pretended to look stern. "Alone? Just the two of you?"

"Just us" admitted Jack, blushing vividly.

Imam, half exasperated, but unable to fight his smile sighed. "You always were insistent on going to the devil in your own way."

Both Riddick and Jack chuckled as, arms around each other's waist, they headed back to their cruiser. They were obviously keen to be on their way.

"Well," Jack called back, laughing in protest as Riddick swung her up in his arms and carried her bridal-style up the ramp. "You know what they say..."

Imam strained to hear as Jack's voice dropped to a whisper, her eyes locked in Riddick's gaze, the ramp rising as their shadows merged as one in the dim light from within. He couldn't be sure, but her husky whisper sounded a lot like,

"_better the devil you know_."

The End

**A big thank you to everyone, all the readers, reviewers and people who favourite-d this fic. Your support is greatly appreciated!! I look forward to your reviews...I hope this chapter was everything wanted and more. ;)**

**Dreaming Dragonfly**


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